Love Stethoscope
by frayed1989
Summary: A challenge from fanfic100. A series of fanfics, one hundred aprox., all surrounding the fandom of Ronald Weasley, a twentytwo year old wizard, and Tom Marvolo Riddle also known as Voldemort a fifteen year old wizard.
1. False Hopes

**Title:** False Hopes  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 001: Beginnings  
**Word Count:** 564  
**Rating:** G  
**Summary:** Tom and Ron decide to be content with their lies.  
**Author's Notes: **Love Stethoscope is a series of one shots put together to form one huge story. They are from prompts as this is my challenge from fanfic100, a community on live journal.

Otherwise, Meh, not much to say. It's before they meet each other. Don't worry, later ones will be smutty and happy and fluffy but you know, Tom's dark so got to keep in character. Note also that Tom is about fifteen in this. Ron is in his early twenties since it's after the war with Voldemort. He's probably like twenty-two.

* * *

The mirror lied to him every night. He knew it did. He knew it had the day he had found it yet he couldn't understand why he kept coming back to it. He couldn't understand why he returned to it to have it lie to him again and again. He had learned of the mirror while overhearing one of the professors talking about it and had decided to find it and discover what it truly did. He was disappointed and angry when he found that all it did was lie. He knew it lied because it showed him his father, powerful and magical standing with him. It showed him in fine robes in a glorious house which he could call his own. It showed his mother, beautiful and happy even though muggle, with her arm wrapped around his father's waist. And above all, it showed himself happy which he had never been. 

Yet night after night, after he flicked his wand and snuck out of the dungeons, up the stairs to the third floor corridor, he returned to the mirror to look at it once more. It was his own torture, his own punishment, although why he felt compelled enough to punish himself, he didn't fully understand. So he looked at himself in fine robes with parents who were happy and there. He watched as they smiled and hugged his shoulders.

Tom knew the mirror lied to him. That's all it did. Night after night, lying, giving him false hopes. He knew the mirror lied yet he couldn't force himself away. Perhaps one day he could. But until then, he was content to watch as the mirror lied to him, with the taunting faces of his dead dreams.

* * *

No matter what he did, what sleeping draughts he took, what meditation exercises Fleur had suggested, he couldn't get the picture out of his head. No matter how they told it, twisted it, bent it so that it didn't hurt as much, he couldn't get it out of his head. Every time he looked at Harry or Draco, he saw it. Every time he shut his eyelids, he saw it. Every time he heard Harry's breath, next to his ear, comforting and heavy, he couldn't get the picture out of his head. 

The picture out of his head. Pale, unblemished skin pressed against tan skin. White blonde hair mixed with jet black. Thin legs wrapped around pronounced, full hips, he couldn't shake it, and it hurt. And the world lied to him. His best friend, his lover lied to him with every kiss, every breath, every smile, and every look. His parents looked away forgiving their hero, their adoptive son in a second. His brothers gave him sympathetic glances and hard pats on the back. Hermione shook her head in disappointment as she looked at him. And the pictures on the mantel shelf lied to him.

Every night it was the same lie. Every night when Harry loved him before he snuck off to love another. Every night when Harry whispered non-senses in his ear, Ron knew. Ron knew the lie, knew the dead dreams, and the false hopes. And like some love sick puppy, he stayed. He picked up the pieces and put them back together. Like some masochist, he stayed, and he lived with the dead dreams, the false hopes, and the lie.


	2. Anywhere But Here

**Title:** Anywhere but Here  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 002: Middles  
**Word Count:** 981  
**Rating:** R  
**Summary:** Tom and finds out about his father and Ron finally opens his eyes to his failing relationship with Harry.  
**Author's Notes:** sex, slash, badness. Darkness and depression. Beware! That and I am totally disregarding the timeline. Tom's sixteen when he finds out about his dad and it's after the chamber of secrets. Just a little fact.

* * *

Morfin Gaunt was a disgusting, mad character who lived by himself in a small, broken down cottage over run with vegetation. He sung songs in parseltongue and shaved the skin off of the dead snakes that laid massacred on the floor. His father had died many years ago, before Tom was born and from serious research, Morfin was Tom's maternal uncle. Which meant that it was his mother who was the magical being of the house. She was the descendent of Salazar Slytherin. 

Tom extracted what information he needed from Morfin before he stunned the crazed bastard and went off in search of the great mansion on top of the hill. His father, his father was the muggle. His father had abandoned them. His father and left him to rot in some orphanage while his mother's corpse rotted six feet under ground in an unmarked grave. He knew that the life he pictured was a lie. He had known for a long time, since he had first discovered the mirror in fact. He had hoped. Hoped for the dream to be true. And now that he knew what exactly his father was, the small bit of hope that he had had was now gone forever.

With rage surfacing quickly, Tom confronted his father and told him he was his son. It had been a shock to his grandparents but his father denied it quickly. He was dying, Tom realized with one look at him. With his grandmother crying, his grandfather yelling, and his father glaring at him, Tom did with only he could think of doing.

One green light after another, each fell down to the ground, their eyes open and empty, their hands limp. The each fell with a thud; they each wore an expression of fear. Tom felt vindicated some how. He felt content. He walked out of the parlor and out of the house. He looked at his wand and pocketed it as he walked down the street, back to his uncle's house.

His uncle sat on the floor next to the overturned table. A snake carved of his meat sat a few feet away and in front of him sat another. He swung his hammer to and fro, nailing the poor creature to the floor. He sang a little song in parseltongue. Tom walked over and placed his hand on his uncle's head. He gave a sick little smile and hugged him before taking out his wand and murmuring a small, quick little charm.

Memories exchanged and his father dead, Tom apparated back to Hogwarts and settled down on a couch in the common room with a book in his lap. When asked where he had been, Tom smiled and replied, "I took a little trip to the country side."

* * *

The covers rustled as another body returned to the bed after abandoning it a few hours ago. A familiar, yet polluted, scent wafted across his nose. The scent which once had been purely Harry had become tainted long ago. Yet he learned to forget about it and push it to the back of his mind along with his other worries and disturbing thoughts. 

He told himself many a time that it was only imagination until the rest of his family had begun to notice. But it seemed that nobody would confront Harry about it. No body wished to insult the boy who defeated Voldemort. And he was tired. He hated the smell of his lover and curled away from it instead of toward it like he was supposed to.

Ron told himself that it was his imagination but when another more putrid scent joined the bed that night, Ron knew he couldn't deal with it. Not tonight.

He sat up in bed and settled his feet on the cold wood floor. He took a deep breath before he got up and pulled his pajamas on. His lips set in a thin line; he grabbed his pillow and moved to leave the room when Harry grasped his arm. Green eyes sparkled in the moonlight and Ron was almost tempted to stay. Almost.

He shook his head and whispered, "Not tonight. I can't do this tonight. Not when you still smell like him." He went to grab the blanket at the foot of the bed when Harry grabbed his arm and pulled him down. Ron pulled away harshly and sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. "I'm moving out tomorrow."

A hand on his shoulder, an arm around his waist, tells him he couldn't leave, not until Harry was ready. "Come back to bed." Ron shook his head and shrugged Harry off of him.

"No, you smell like him." Harry didn't answer and sat back further on the bed. "You reek of him and you want me to sleep with you and pretend everything is okay. You want me to pretend everything is alright." He paused and got up from the bed, pillow and blanket in hand. "I can't pretend anymore, Harry. And I don't want to pretend anymore." He took a deep breath, silence filling the room as he waited for Harry to say something, anything to convince him to stay. "I'll be gone in the morning. When you're at work, I'll get my stuff." He turned towards the door and walked a few steps before he stopped. He didn't turn to look at Harry who he could feel staring holes in the back of his neck. "I can't pick up the pieces anymore."

As he walked through the door, he prayed that Harry would stop him as he had done so many times before. Back when Ron only had assumptions of affairs and Harry would sooth his troubles away with a kiss and a smile. But when he walked through the door, Harry didn't stop him this time. Harry was gone.


	3. Catalyst

**Title:** Catalyst

**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 003: Ends  
**Word Count:** 2,576  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** One where Ron leaves Harry, Tom creates his first horcrux, and the two meet after an accident with a mirror.  
**Author's Notes:** Think Pre-HPB.

* * *

It had taken much research and manipulation to gain the information he had needed. It had taken months, and Slughorn's vanity to get it, but he finally had it. With the locket in his pocket and his notes on horcruxes, he moved deliberately down the hall towards the girl's bathroom. He had discovered the chamber a few short days ago but had decided against using it until he could come with a foolproof plan in which he would not be discovered. 

After checking under every stall, Tom moved over to the sink and whispered in parseltongue. The sinks began to move apart, spreading out so that you could see between them. The one sink, the one which he had whispered to sunk below the ground and hid itself as if it had never existed. He smiled and looked down at the huge pipe to which the sinks connected. Feeling the locket in his pocket, he jumped, swishing down the pipe and falling into the sewers under the school.

A rank, disgusting smell wafted across his nose but he was used to it now as he stood up and began to walk towards the chamber. The snake which lived there, a large basilisk which could kill just by sight, had welcomed Tom immediately. Sometimes, when he had the time and no worry of anyone walking in on him, Tom had whisked down to the chamber simply to spend time with the large snake, talking with it and learning about its life. Unlike the Mirror of Erised, the snake didn't lie to him and he found it a better companion then the image of himself alone, powerful, and immortal.

After entering the chamber, he called to the snake and smiled as it slithered out the mouth of a great face that had been resurrected long ago when the chamber had been built. The snake seemed to smile when it took in the scent of Tom and slithered over to his master and laid next to him, his huge head butting Tom's body, knocking him a bit. "Hey there," Tom said with a grin. "You are going to witness the greatest thing ever!" He pulled out the locket and held it up to the giant snake who stuck his tongue out to take in the scent. "You are going to witness the making of a horcrux."

The snake shook his large head and seemed to frown. Tom pat the snake on his nose and whispered lovingly to it, "I know. Soon, I promise. I'll let you out soon. I believe the half giant might be of some use after all. I caught him smuggling an egg into school a few days ago." The snake seemed eager at this and was then content the lie its giant head down and watch his master make a horcrux.

"Do you know what a horcrux is? I'll tell you. It's when you take a piece of your soul and place it in an object. You have to select your objects with great care of course." He said this mainly for his own benefit but knew the snake was listening carefully. "That's why I have chosen this locket. It was my mother's. She sold it so we could live, you know. My mother was weak and not very beautiful. But beauty is nothing when you have power. She didn't have power though. I feel sorry for her but she was weak. I don't think she ever got the chance to come here to Hogwarts. I'm sure that if she did, she would have made something of herself and I would have been born to a proper wizarding family. No, my grandfather never gave her that chance," Tom spat with anger. "And my father didn't help her either, the muggle that he was. I hate muggles. All of them, horrible, disgusting people who think of nothing but themselves."

He turned to the snake and hugged its great head. "This is why one day you'll be out of this great castle and have as many mudbloods, half-bloods, and muggles as you want. Unless of course I tell you not to kill one. Because it isn't a child's fault that they were born to a muggle father or mother or both. We need to take that into account." Tom smiled and held the locket up in front of him.

"I'm going to hide this deep in a cave where I used to play as a child when I lived at the orphanage. I'm going back this summer so I'll hide it then." He looked at the locket and gave a sad small smile. "I think mother would be proud of me. After all, she is a descendant of Slytherin. I'm sure she would have wished to do this to." He paused, gazing at the locket before throwing it up and catching it in the palm of his hand. "Well, let's get this down with before someone notices the sinks in the girl's bathroom."

* * *

Ron flicked his wand and watched as the door opened slowly. He stepped into the living room of the flat and looked around. Already, his things had been hidden away and Draco's put up in their place. He walked into the kitchen table and listened as the phone rang. He moved to pick it up and realized he didn't live here anymore. He spotted a huge box on the kitchen table, a not attached to it. He read it as the answering machine went off. "You've reached Harry and Draco. We're not here right now. Leave a message and we'll get back to you." 

He felt his eyes begin to swell and shut them to hold the tears back. He hated being so weak, so emotional. Why couldn't he get angry? Why did this hurt so much? He grabbed the box and picked it up as he listened to his mother's voice leave a message, an invitation to dinner that night. Draco was invited as well. He had half a mind to delete the message, the tip of his ears burning red but he took a deep breath and turned to leave the kitchen.

The door to the flat opened and laughter fallowed. He listened to Harry's voice, hearing the smile in it as Draco said something funny. Ron bit his bottom lip and apparated out of the flat before Harry or Draco saw him. At least he thought so. Harry caught a glimpse of his anguished face as he disappeared. Harry's smile left his face as he untangled himself from Draco's embrace and walked over to where Ron had been standing. Draco frowned but thought little of it as he went into the kitchen and listened to the messages left on the machine.

He walked back into the living room to find Harry in the spot he had left him. He wrapped his arms around his waist and rested his head on Harry's shoulder. "Mrs. Weasley invited us to dinner. She seems to have the telephone down now. Do you want to go?" Draco asked, trying to lighten Harry's mood. But Harry didn't answer, and only looked around the room. Every trace of Ron was gone. The only thing left were to footprints in the carpet, where he had last been standing.

Ron dropped the box on his bed and stomped down the stairs of the burrow, ducking his head under the doorway as he entered the kitchen where Ginny sat with her son. Ron could see Neville's head bobbing outside the window where he was working on the garden. His mother was over at the sink, washing pots and pans as she readied herself to start dinner. She glanced over at the clock and turned to look at Ron. "Well that was quick. I thought it would take you a while to get your stuff," she said nonchalant like.

"Why? Why did you have to invite them tonight?" Ron asked as he looked at his mother. She gave a small laugh and looked at him.

"I always invite Harry over. I invited the both of you when you were still together. I don't see why I shouldn't now," she stated turning back to her pots and pans. Ron grabbed a cup the chucked it across the room in anger, watching as it smashed against the wall. The baby started crying and Ginny only watched as he mother turned to her youngest son. "Now look what you've done! You've scared poor Frank!" she yelled, pointing at her grandson.

"Why? Why damn it? Why tonight? Why do you have to totally disregard my fucking feelings?" Ron shouted back at her, his whole face becoming red. Neville had walked in when he heard the ruckus and moved to lead his wife out of the room. But Ginny only handed him their child and waved him out of the room. Neville glanced at Ron and left quickly, bouncing Frank in his arms. "I'm your fucking son! Harry just had an affair while he was with me! You're son! You're flesh and fucking blood and you want to invite him over to dinner! Have you gone fucking nutters?"

It was as Ron shouted he was her son that Molly Weasley began to look somewhat ashamed. She stayed silent and only glared at him as Ron crossed over to her. "If he comes, I won't be here. And if I come home drunk, you will not scold me. I fucking deserve to get drunk if I want to. And if I bring home someone, you are not going to scold me because I need a fucking good shag for all the bull shit I've been through." With that, he kicked open the door and stalked outside.

Ginny looked over at her mother and then towards the clock. Every spoon pointed towards home. Except for Harry's spoon which had been put in a few moths ago. His pointed to _lost_.

Ron entered the old dilapidated workhouse in the backyard. His father worked diligently in here when he wasn't at work or spending time with the family. It was full of muggle artifacts, ones that had enchantments on them or had some magical aspect to them not that his father had his hands on them. Ron liked to hide in the old work house when he wanted to be alone and he knew his father wasn't going to be home for a while.

He walked around the one room, running his fingers along the artifacts and jumping when a rubber duck snapped its jaws at him. It was then that he noticed something shimmering near the back of the room. A great floor mirror stood between paintings and a refrigerator. It reminded him much of the Mirror of Erised which Harry had discovered during their first year.

Harry. Ron closed his eyes to hold back the onslaught of tears that threatened to fall. He hated being so weak when it came to Harry. He hated the pang in his chest when ever he thought of Harry. He also hated the fact that footsteps were coming towards the old shack when he wanted desperately to be alone.

He spun around to yell at whoever had invaded his privacy when he caught a glimpse of jet black hair and green eyes. Harry was standing in the doorway to the shack. Ron's mouth hung open and he tried to think of something. When Harry took a step towards him, Ron took a step back. Harry opened his mouth to say something while Ron's mouth snapped shut as he began to glare at Harry. How dare he! He didn't have the right anymore! Harry closed his mouth at the sight of Ron but took another step forward, reaching out to Ron. Ron took another step back and hit the mirror.

He was about to say something, and insult, or maybe even beg that Harry take him back so that everything would be alright again, so that it wouldn't hurt anymore when he noticed the mirror was starting to swallow him up. Silver hands grabbed at his clothes, at his arms, at his hair. He struggled and reached out to Harry calling is name. Harry rushed forwards, grabbing at Ron's hands and telling him to hold on.

But neither boy was strong enough and Harry lost grip of Ron. Ron tumbled backwards into black endless space. Back in the house, Ron's spoon moved to join Harry's at _lost_.

It seemed like he had been falling forever when he finally hit the ground which was cold, yet palpable under his fingertips. He sighed and sat on his knees, holding his head as he waited for Harry's strong, comforting arms to wrap around his shoulders and drag him up. But his arms never came and Ron glanced around the room to find that he was not in the old shack but in a classroom. A classroom in Hogwarts. He gasped and spun around, still on his knees to find a reflection of himself in a mirror. The mirror he had fallen through. His reflection looked nothing like him. Instead, he was clean, wearing fine robes, and Harry was standing next to him. Harry was smiling, with his arms wrapped around Ron's waist. Every now and then, Harry would look at Ron's reflection and kiss it and then look back with a great smile.

Ron fell back onto his bum and stared open mouth at the mirror. He knew what it was, knew what it did, knew that it lied to him and showed him his greatest desire. Something that he had lost long ago. Yet he couldn't tear his gaze away.

He sat and stared at the lying reflection for Merlin knows how long until somebody else entered the room. He didn't move to see who it was; he only pulled his knees up to his chest and embraced them. He hoped that it was Dumbledore, hoped that he would turn around and see twinkling blue eyes. Hell, he would even love to see Snape right then and there.

Instead, a boy around the age of fifteen with dark hair and dark eyes came to stand in front of him. He took in Ron's long red hair which was pulled back in a ponytail and his pale freckled skin. He took in Ron's shimmering brown eyes which were filled with unshed tears. And then he bent down so that he sat in front of Ron. He reached out his hand and grasped his shoulder. He didn't talk, or ask any questions. He grasped Ron's shoulders and dragged him up. He wrapped his arm around Ron's waist and guided him out the door. His arms weren't muscled from playing quidditch. He wasn't built, but thin and lanky. He was shorter, he didn't fit well. But Ron felt safe.

Ron felt somewhat whole again.

Back at the Weasley house, a spoon turned on the great clock that sat next to the archway in the kitchen. The Weasley family watched as the spoon moved slowly from _lost_ to _home._ They held their breaths and watched the doorway. But the familiar red hair didn't appear. The familiar smile didn't come with it. They looked at an empty doorway and couldn't understand why the spoon with the grinning red headed little boy turned. To them he was still lost. But to Ron, he finally felt at home.


	4. Move Along

**Title:** Move Along  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 004: Insides  
**Word Count:** 868  
**Rating:** PG13  
**Summary: **Ron finds comfort in the form of a young boy the age of fifteen.  
**Author's Notes:** It may seem like things are moving fast but it will slow down.

* * *

Ron laid on the bed, staring up at the canopy overhead. The boy with dark eyes had placed him there a while ago. He then disappeared and Ron hadn't seen him since. He wondered if perhaps the boy had gone to get Dumbledore. Ron decided he didn't think he could look at Dumbledore and not burst out crying. 

The room was decked in lush greens and silvers. The boy was obviously a Slytherin which meant that Ron would later run into Snape as he was head of the house. A few days ago, had he been in this situation, Ron would have yelled in outrage for being taken to a Slytherin dormitory as he still had a grudge against slytherins, but then and there, Ron decided he didn't care anymore.

He stared up at the canopy and wondered what was happening at home. Ron realized he would have apparated back if it had not been for the fact that you can't do such a think on Hogwarts ground. But then after further thought, he realized that even if he could, he wouldn't. He didn't think he could take seeing Harry so soon after what had happened.

The boy with dark eyes entered the room, a bowl and towels in his hands. He set the bowl down on the nightstand next to the bed and placed a cloth in it, ringing it out of water and dabbing Ron's head with it. Ron looked warily at him, watching the concentration set on his face. After a few moments, he put the cloth back in the bowl and rung it out again. This time, as he moved to dab at Ron's face, Ron gently grasped his wrist, and pulled it down so that the boy's hand rested on his chest.

Ron was aware of the damp cloth on his chest, aware of the warm water seeping through his bright orange Chudley Cannons t-shirt. He didn't remove the washcloth but held the boy's hand there as he stared up at him. He was acting delirious, weird, and wrong. He wanted to wipe Harry's memory from his mind. He wanted to forget. He wanted desperately to kiss the boy in front of him. But he was young, oh so young. Probably in his fourth, maybe even fifth year and Ron was twenty-two.

He threw caution to the wind and ignored the tiny voice in his head that screamed at him, telling him he shouldn't do this; he shouldn't use this young boy in front of him to make Harry disappear. It was wrong but Ron didn't care. With his other hand, he reached up as he scooted up on the bed so that he could sit and reach him better. Left hand still holding the boy's right hand to his chest, right hand becoming tangled in thick black hair, Ron pulled the boy towards him, pressing his lips against the boy's.

The boy gasped and tensed in Ron's grasp. Ron didn't notice and only used the gasp as his opportunity to fall in deeper. His tongue carefully maneuvered in the boy's mouth, softly, slowly, as to not frighten him. Ron didn't know what he would do if the boy pulled away. He couldn't take another rejection.

The boy closed his eyes and relaxed after a few moments, and then he leaned into Ron, kissing him back with just as much force as Ron. Ron then wrapped his arms around the boy and pulled him up so that the boy straddled Ron's waist. The boy dropped the wet cloth on the bed and tangled his fingers in Ron's hair. Ron moaned into the boy's mouth and held him tightly. He leaned forward, bending the boy backward as he tried to get more of him.

The boy pulled away slightly, gasping for air as he closed his eyes and his head fell back. Ron nipped and kissed at the skin exposed and bared for him. He traced the boy's collar bone with his tongue, blowing on the wet skin as he did so. The boy arched up into him, his mouth open in a silent moan.

Ron opened his eyes and pulled away, looking at the young boy in his arms. The dark hair, tousled, and so much like Harry's. He was thinner than Ron and looked fragile. His cheekbones were pronounced, not in a way that he looked sick. His lips were swollen, red from kissing. The boy opened his dark, endless eyes and gazed back at Ron.

Ron wanted to say something, perhaps ask his name, but he found that he couldn't speak. They had been in this comfortable silence, not talking, just feeling. He ran his right hand through the boy's hair and gave a soft smile. He leaned in slowly, giving a soft kiss before he laid back on the bed, bringing the boy with him as he were a stuffed animal of some sort. The boy melded to him, resting his head on Ron's broad chest and closing his eyes.

Tomorrow they would talk. Tomorrow they would find out names and where the other came from. For now however, they would just sleep. For now however, they would just feel.


	5. Blue and Yellow

**Title:** Blue and Yellow  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 005: Outsides  
**Word Count:** 1,820  
**Rating:** PG13  
**Summary: **Ron finds out the boy's identity and finds that he has mixed feelings about it.  
**Author's Notes:** So like I've said before, these stories DO NOT fallow the actual time line. I'm sure that Tom seems a bit OOC but oh well. I'm taking artistic liberties here. I hope you enjoy it though!

Man, I'm on a bloody roll with these prompts! I'm so excited! XD

* * *

Tom Riddle awoke in the morning to find his cheek pressed against a firm, broad chest. His cheek felt wet and there was something pressing against the inner side of his right thigh. He pushed himself up so that he sat half on the body and half on the bed. After rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he looked down to see the ginger haired man lying in his bed, his head turned to the side and his hand resting on Tom's thigh. 

Tom opened the curtain which had been drawn in the middle of the night when Tom had heard other people entering the dormitory. The man hadn't been roused from his slumber. Unlike Tom, he was a heavy sleeper. And from what Tom had gathered in the few moments of being awake, the man was custom to heated dreams or fantasies. Tom had the rising suspicion that the dreams, or fantasies, were centered on some else and not him.

Tom looked around the room, finding everyone else fast asleep, snuggled deep in their comforters to escape the chill of the dungeon. Tom usually would have found himself in the same position but that morning, he had found that the comforters had been kicked away as if it had gotten too hot. Tom shifted unconsciously and wondered what exactly he should do with the man below him. He was obviously older than seventeen so he must have graduated Hogwarts some time ago.

It was then that the man beneath him groaned, quiet loudly. Tom's eyes widened as they darted across the room. Some of the boys shifted in their beds, others growled in discontent and turned over to fall back to sleep, one didn't even move at all. Tom pulled the curtains close and cast a silence charm on the bed before slipping off the man and biting the skin of his thumb.

Ron grumbled and sat up in bed, ready to yell for his mom to bring him so aspirin. He rubbed at his eyes and sighed, running his hand across his chin and feeling the stubble that grew there. He opened his eyes and instead of finding himself in his room back at the burrow, he found himself in a rather small bed with a young boy around the age of fifteen sitting there staring at him as he bit at his thumb.

Ron wondered briefly how much he had had to drink the night before until he remembered exactly what happened. Harry, the mirror, the young boy who had taken care of him. And Ron had – "Shit." Ron stared at the boy and rubbed at his chin, trying to think of something to say, trying to figure out why the hell he had kissed him. Finally, he settled for something very simple. "Who are you?"

"I should be asking you the same question considering you were the one that fell out of the Mirror of Erised," the boy replied, looking Ron up and down. Ron shook his head and thought back hard to his first year. The mirror of Erised had been removed from school after it had served its purpose. It had been moved to the department of mysterious according to his father and then later removed before his fifth year and taken someplace else. There for, the mirror couldn't possibly be at Hogwarts.

Ron's head snapped up and he looked at the young boy in front of him. "Impossible," he stated. "The mirror was removed from this school during my first year and disappeared around my fifth year at Hogwarts. The mirror couldn't possibly be here. I would have known."

"Perhaps it returned to Hogwarts after you graduated. I don't know how old you are but I do know you are older than eighteen, so you must have graduated," the boy stated logically. Ron shook his head and thumbed his lip.

"No, Hermione would have mentioned the mirror." At Tom's blank stare, Ron supplied, "Professor Granger, she teaches potions since Snape finally got the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts. You must have her." Tom shook his head and raised his eyebrow at Ron.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-two," Ron stated quickly.

"That means you were here during my first year! But I've never seen you before!" Tom exclaimed. Ron waved his hand and shook his head.

"I wasn't here my final year. Harry, Hermione, and I went on a search of Voldemort's horcruxes," Ron stated as he thought back. Something didn't fit. Something wasn't right. He didn't notice Tom stiffen or scoot further away from him.

Ron was still debating possibilities in his head when he felt the familiar pressure of a wand pressed against the side of his neck. The looked up startled, to see the boy in front of him trembling with either fear or anger, which Ron couldn't be sure. "How do you know that name?" Tom asked, his voice low and shaking. Ron looked at him puzzled and remained silent. It was kind of hard not to know that name. "How do you know that name!" Tom yelled.

"I grew up fearing that name!" Ron whispered as he stared at the young boy. Then it clicked. Ron had thought vaguely that the boy reminded him of someone. Even though he had never seen Tom Marvolo Riddle, Harry and described him perfectly and Ron had even seen a picture of him in some old archives of the school. "Oh sweet Merlin," Ron whispered.

Tom was still shaking as Ron reached out and grasped his hand, forcing him to lower his wand. Obviously, no one yet knew of the name Voldemort. And for some reason, Ron couldn't see the scrawny boy in front of him as someone who would eventually end up the most feared wizard in the world. Yet Ron couldn't help but feel some sort of hatred for the boy. He bit his lip to keep from yelling and rubbed his thumb against the back of Tom's hand to keep him comforted, much as his brother Bill had done when Ron was younger.

Ron swallowed the liquid in his mouth and gently pulled Tom towards him. Tom resisted, and tensed in Ron's grasp as Ron moved him so that he sat in Ron's lap. Even though Ron knew who Tom was, he couldn't help but feel some sort of pity for the boy. He gently pulled Tom's wand out of his grasp and set it on the bedside table within reach of Tom if he wanted to snatch it up again. He then pulled out his own wand and placed it next to Tom's.

"How old are you?" Ron asked as he rubbed Tom's back. Tom began to relax and his body was shaking. Whatever Ron was doing, it was working. Tom took deep breaths and closed his eyes before he mumbled 'fifteen'. Ron nodded his head and stared ahead of him. "Tom, have you opened the chamber?" he asked calmly. The boy shook his head in the negative and began to tense. Ron rubbed the small of his back in circular motions, resting his chin on top of Tom's head. This boy was so young; he certainly couldn't be a killer yet.

"Who are you?" Tom murmured against Ron's chest. He couldn't understand why he was reacting to the man in such a way. He couldn't understand why he felt so calm around him. It scared him. It also scared him that the man seemed to know so much about him, about his future, about his past. He even knew about the horcrux and from what Tom had gathered, he had even destroyed them. The man holding him and comforting him had killed pieces of his soul.

"My name is Ron Weasley." He gave a short chuckle. "I'm from the bloody future." Tom couldn't help but give a small laugh at that statement to. Tom had figured that out after Ron had asked about the chamber since no one else knew of its existence or those who did know of the chamber only thought it was a rumor. "So Tom, it seems that I have majorly screwed up the time line thus changing my own life and possibly destroying the universe," Ron stated, repeating something Hermione had told him about time travel a long time ago. "I think the best course of action is to seek out Dumbledore as he is the only one that could help us."

"Dumbledore doesn't trust me," Tom stated much like a petulant child. Ron gave a small laugh and smiled at Tom. Ron yawned and leaned back against the backboard, pulling Tom with him. Ron realized he was acting quiet casually about the whole thing. It seemed unreal, like some strange dream. Ron knew the danger that he faced when he was with Tom. Tom wasn't really all there up stairs, at least, that's what he had learned. But the young boy laying on top of him, snuggling his head into the crook of his neck made him think otherwise. Ron knew that Tom was manipulative but he couldn't help feeling as if he should give him a chance. Ron then realized it wasn't Tom he hated. It was Voldemort, the man he would become. The man he could possibly become.

The thought came to him unbidden. Perhaps this was his chance to stop Voldemort from ever coming to being. Harry would grow up with parents who were alive and well. He wouldn't be famous, he would be normal like he always wanted. Malfoy wouldn't turn out to be such a git most of the time and Bill would never be mauled by a werewolf. Sirius would never be sent to Azkaban and potentially, never die. And he, he would possibly lose his best friend in the process.

If he changed the past, the future, he could potentially never meet Harry Potter and become best friends with him. He wouldn't be able to have the chance of going on crazy adventures and be forced to grow up to soon. He would potentially never fall in love with Harry.

It didn't seem to matter though, he was losing Harry anyway.

Soft snores from Tom interrupted his train of thought. Ron looked down at Tom and gave a soft smile. On the outside, Tom looked like any other innocent fifteen year old, on the verge of manhood, waiting excitedly to grow up and get out into the real world. On the inside, something dark lurked, but there was hope there too. There was always hope.

Ron decided that he would take the chance. With the change of the future, he would give everyone a better life. It could potentially harm his own life but it wouldn't harm anyone else's. It would only make it better. And perhaps he could save two lost souls in the process. Tom's soul and his own.


	6. Star Struck

**Title:** Star Struck  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 006: Hours  
**Word Count:** 1,166  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary: **Ron and Tom talk with Dumbledore.  
**Author's Notes: **I have none except I have a strong desire to add Severus Snape in here maybe once or twice. Damn that sexy potions master.

* * *

Ron woke up a few hours later with Tom still resting against him. He noticed the change in Tom's breathing a few minuets later and smiled when Tom snuggled closer and pretended to be asleep. Ron yawned, stretching his arms and legs, jostling Tom purposely so that his dark eyes snapped open and he gave a glare. Ron chuckled and gave a huge grin. "What am I going to do about you," he murmured, caressing Tom's flushed cheek. 

Tom leaned into Ron's hand and closed his eyes, breathing deeply in the fresh air and the scent of Ron. He gave a small grin but stopped when he realized exactly what he was doing. Tom never had been involved with anyone physically or emotionally and had prided himself on it. Tom wasn't wavered by a lusty gaze or a random touch of skin upon skin contact. Tom has always been precise, calculating, always thinking. He never had time for romance.

Perhaps it was because no one ever interested him or perhaps he didn't just care. He only cared about fulfilling his goal, Salazar Slytherin's goal and he had a huge feeling that Ron wasn't about to let him fulfill that goal. Ron was going to lead him far away. A tiny voice in his head asked if that would be horribly bad. There was doubt and doubt lead to certain death. Tom had learned this early on.

He pulled away from Ron and got out of bed, noticing that everyone else had vacated the dormitory. Ron grinned like a Cheshire cat the pulled Tom back to him, nipping at his ear affectionately.

Ron had noted early on that it didn't seem to take much to get over Harry. In fact, he had moved on rather quickly but something told him that this time it was different. Tom was different then Harry and he had realized that while Harry loved him, he didn't love him the way Ron had wanted him to. And Ron hadn't loved Harry the way he had thought. Perhaps the attraction he felt towards Tom was unwarranted lust, burning, fiery, and passionate.

Tom struggled in Ron's grasp but gave up after realizing that the quidditch player was much too strong for him. He sighed and pouted slightly to which Ron chuckled, turning his chin towards him and kissing his lips with impact. Tom found himself falling into the kiss despite his mind constantly telling him not to. It seemed that his body was winning out. Soon, Tom was straddling Ron's waist, Ron grasping Tom's hips and holding him there. An amused chuckle interrupted them, causing both to separate instantly to opposite sides of the bed.

There stood Albus Dumbledore in his purple robes and with his sparkling blue eyes. He did look younger, grey still lingering in his long hair and beard. He looked around the room picking a Bernie Bott's Flavored Bean from a carton next to bed. "I heard we had a guest here at Hogwarts. I am surprised however, that neither of you announced his or your presence." Immediately, Ron ducked his head and gave a sheepish grin. He knew that the soon to be Headmaster of Hogwarts did not know him and would not know him for another fifty years.

"Sorry Professor," Ron blurted out of habit. Dumbledore looked surprised at this but his face soon returned to the playful smile. Ron stood up, straightening his clothes and holding out his hand. "Ronald Weasley, sir. Um, I don't know how to say this," he started, looking back at Tom for help. Tom sat at the end of the bed, his hands clasped in his lap, his legs together, and his head bowed, his dark hair falling into his eyes.

"He's from the future Professor, he fell out of the mirror," Tom whispered so softly it was as if he didn't say anything at all. Dumbledore grinned and nodded.

"Visiting the Mirror of Erised again, Tom." Tom nodded his head and Dumbledore popped the bean into his mouth, chewing it and his eyebrows raising slightly in reaction to the taste. "Well, let's be thankful that you were there when Mr. Weasley fell through. I take it that you attend Hogwarts in the near future?" Ron shrugged and nodded.

"Fifty years in, yeah, I'm there, or-um, here." Dumbledore nodded and circled the room, seeming to contemplate what course of action to take. Ron backed up so that he stood to the side of Tom. He reached back and grasped on of Tom's hands, squeezing it reassuringly. He heard Tom give a deep sigh as Dumbledore stopped in front of them.

"Well, we have to get you back Mr. Weasley. But you'll need to see Poppy and get checked up. It'll take a while to get you back. It could take a few hours or it could take a few years but we'll find something." He gave a small smile but turned serious quickly. "However, while you are here Mr. Weasley, you will not divulge any information about the future as it could be catastrophic." Ron nodded his head.

"Understood, Professor." Dumbledore smiled and nodded his head, noting quickly Tom and Ron's clasped hands.

"Well then, how old are you?"

"Twenty-two," Tom supplied before Ron could answer. Ron grinned and shrugged as Dumbledore raised his grey eyebrows.

"Well then, you're too old to pose as a student, what do you do in the future?" Dumbledore asked.

"I'm the keeper for the Chudley Cannons," Ron stated, puffing out his chest proudly. "My brothers, Fred and George play sometimes too when they're not busy with the shop." Dumbledore nodded.

"It seems that you had good timing in coming here, Mr. Weasley. As it is, our flying professor is sick after being sprayed with flubber worm goo. He got a good bit of it in his mouth, horrible accident. Therefore, we're short our flying teacher and quidditch referee, I'm sure headmaster Dippet will agree." He smiled at them before turning around and leaving. "Tom will direct you to Poppy and then to breakfast. I'm sure Headmaster Dippet will see to you soon after." He turned around gave a grin, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half moon glasses. "I'll shall see you later and I'll see you, Tom, in transfiguration."

With that, Dumbledore left the dormitory, his purple robes swishing behind him. Ron smiled, shaking his head as he thought that Dumbledore would never change. He then turned around and looked down at Tom who seemed to be pouting. "How did he know you were here?" Tom asked.

"He's a legilimens. I thought everyone knew that," Ron stated with a smile. Tom shook his head and Ron shrugged. "Come on, I'm starving." Tom nodded, standing up, still holding Ron's hand. It seemed natural to them and they didn't notice the multiple students that stared at them as they passed by. The world went unnoticed to the two but they did not go unnoticed to the world.


	7. Company

**Title:** Company  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 007: Days  
**Word Count:** 652  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** Ron and an old friend chat.  
**Author's Notes: **Meh – REVIEW PLEASE.

* * *

It had been four days since Dumbledore had walked in on Ron getting a little to friendly with his student. Five days since he had fallen out of the mirror and ten days since he had left Harry. And in two days, it would be the five year anniversary of Voldemort's death and the war's end. And three days after that, had Ron and Harry held out that long, it would've been their four year anniversary. 

Ron sat at the staff table that morning, eating his breakfast and staring at heir of Slytherin who sat at his house table, eating his breakfast slowly and like a proper gentleman while his friends chatted animatedly around him. One girl who sat next to him was playing with the collar of Tom's robes and ever twirling her finger in his raven black hair. Ron felt his eyes narrow into slits and thought briefly that he must look much like Professor Snape with his posture and expression. Except of looking dark and deadly, he looked like a fool with a lot of red hair.

"I don't think she'll move away from him any time soon, Ronald," a warm voice stated. Ron dropped his fork, a loud clatter of silver against silver as he jerked in his seat and looked next to him to see twinkling blue eyes. "You've grown quiet attached to the boy, haven't you?" Dumbledore asked as he cut into his pancakes. Ron groaned, running his hand through his long hair, cringing as he realized he had lost his hair tie.

"I don't know what it is Professor, there's something about him," Ron stated as he picked up his fork again and returned his gaze to Tom. Tom heaved a sigh and took another bite of his food, looking extremely bored by what the girl was saying to him. "He's gay you stupid bint," Ron whispered, glaring at her. He heard Dumbledore give an amused chuckle before he set down his fork and covered his face with his hands. "Sorry Professor, that was rude of me."

"You really should get out of the habit of calling me Professor, Ronald. We are colleagues now and as it is, you have never been a student of mine," Dumbledore stated. Ron shrugged his shoulders.

"Technically, I never was even in my time," Ron stated. Dumbledore raised his grey eyebrows at Ron and nodded his head slowly. "Fuck, I told you something about the future just then, didn't I?"

"Yes Ronald and do tone down on the profanity. I doubt you get it from your father's side of the family." Ron shook his head and gave a lopsided grin.

"My brothers, the trouble makers," Ron stated. Dumbledore smiled a twinkle in his blue eyes.

"I suppose I'll have to watch out for two troublesome Weasley's in the future, yes?" Ron's eyes widened as he realized what he had done for the second time that morning.

"I shouldn't talk at all," he stated, looking back at Tom. Tom still sat there, listening and commenting quietly on the topic at hand. The girl was pressing herself up against him now. Ron gripped the table and glared at her. "I'm going to jinx her broom later on," Ron growled.

"Bad idea my boy, very bad idea," Dumbledore stated but when Ron looked over, the old professor did not have a frown upon his lips but an amused smile. Ron sighed and stood up from the table.

"I think I'm going to go cool off before I do something I regret. I'll see you at lunch Professor?" Dumbledore nodded and smiled.

"Albus, Ronald, call me Albus." Ron nodded, pushed his chair in and exited the great hall swiftly. He then decided he needed the dark billowing robes. When he got back to the future, he was going to be sure to ask to borrow Snape's just to see if he could pull it off.


	8. World Falling Apart

**Title:** World Falling Apart  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 008: Weeks  
**Word Count:** 495  
**Rating:** G  
**Summary:** Ron teaches quidditch and Tom watches in.  
**Author's Notes: **Sorry for being so short, next one will be much long and hold smut XD

* * *

It had been over a week since Ron had fallen out of the mirror and two weeks was rapidly approaching. He was teaching a new set of students everyday how to fly. Some seemed to be naturals, much like Harry had been, and others had problems and one student with bright red hair much like his own had a brown hit him in the face much like his own broom had done his first year. 

Sometimes, when Tom had a free period and Ron was showing flying techniques to the students, Tom would come and sit out in and watch. Sometimes, Ron even had him help another student or two. The first years had taken to Ron immediately, proclaiming that he should stay and become the permanent flying professor. Ron would smile sadly and shake his head. "Sorry kids, maybe in the future but that won't happen anytime soon," he would say to which the first years would sigh and pout.

When they did this, Ron would hop on his broom and float up a few feet in the hair, the broom held diagonal as he stood on the ferrule that held the stalk to the staff. "All right, kiddies, hop on your brooms, it's time for a quidditch scrimmage," he called out at which every student would shed their outer robes, throwing them on the ground and hopping on their brooms.

Some girls would whine, saying that they didn't have proper gear and the bludgers would hurt them. "Well you better hope you're beater is pretty good and beating, now, don't you?" Ron would retort with a smile. At this the few girls would grudgingly take up their brooms and get up into the air. "Now form a line. We'll have two times. Count of one two, one two."

"Why don't we just do teams by houses?" one young boy asked. Ron would roll his eyes and direct his broom over to him, still standing on the ferrule.

"Because that promotes separation and bigotry. You kids can't have that. Sure, it's healthy to have competition and such strong rivalry is wrong. To dislike another peer just because he or she is not in your house is wrong. Besides, you need to learn to stick together and work as a team," he would pause, his facial expression becoming serious. Each student would look at him, waiting for him to continue, all listening intently on what he had to say. "You're going to need it in the future."

Ron would then cast a glance over at Tom who stared at him as if he had heard this a thousand times and didn't need to be reminded again. But inside, Tom knew why Ron stated this. Something bad was going to happen, something horrible and the wizarding world would need to stick together to get through it. And by Ron's simple look, Tom knew that he would be the one that cause the world to fall apart.


	9. Walk By

**Title:** Walk By  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 009: Months  
**Word Count:** 1,700  
**Rating:** R  
**Summary:** Ron teaches quidditch and Tom watches in.  
**Author's Notes: **Smutty-ness for you. If you do not like smut, do not read!

Ron couldn't help but stare at Tom hungrily as he sat at the head table in the great hall, Dumbledore on one side of him and Flitwick (!) on the other side. A few days had passed by and Dumbledore had already told him that it would take up to at the most; two months to perfect the potion that would send him back to his rightful time. Ron had a feeling that if Snape had been the potions master during this time period, he would only have to wait a week tops. After all, Snape would have slaved over it, day after day, never sleeping, just so he could get rid of the Weasley.

Ron squinted his eyes, sipping on his pumpkin juice as he stared at Tom who was in his usual seat, eating in his usual manner, with that blasted silly little bint hanging on him yet again. Ron hadn't asked Tom about the girl as he figured Tom wouldn't wish to answer and pull away from him. Dumbledore would chuckle from time to time whenever Ron would say something rude about her while Flitwick would only look on in shock, not saying anything but wondering if the young man next to him had any problems upstairs.

When desert was served, Ron stood up from the table, excusing himself after watching the girl wrap her arms around Tom's waist and press herself suggestively up against him. Ron knew he was acting like some jealous boyfriend but found he didn't care. Somehow, he decided, he was going to make sure that everyone knew that no one could lay one finger on Tom.

He stormed out of the great hall; his dark robes billowing behind him, as he had went out and purchased new robes a few days before. He noticed Hagrid sitting at his table, watching Ron worriedly. Ron found it hard to believe that Hagrid was only in his third year seeing as he was as tall as Ron if not a bit taller. He let himself give a small smirk as he disappeared behind the great double doors.

* * *

Tom noticed Ron leave immediately and wondered briefly what had caused his quick departure. He looked at Paula Parkinson who pressed herself up against him, whispering things in his ear. She was a year older and been much of a whore since her fourth year. She had been trying to get him into bed since last year which had frightened Tom quiet a bit, not that he would show it. 

As he looked at her, it clicked as to what must have set Ron off. He gave a small laugh as to which his friends looked at him, confused. He shook his head and extracted himself from Paula. "Excuse me; I have something to attend you. I'll see you later," he stated politely, casting a glance towards the head table where Dumbledore sat, a smile on his old face and a twinkle in his young eyes.

He exited the great hall, walking towards the main staircase hall when a rough hand grasped him from behind and pulled him into a small nook behind a large statue. Tom gripped at his wand out of habit and was about to pull it out when the familiar large arms wrapped around his torso and held him. Soft lips on his neck, Tom loosed his grip on his wand and let his head fall back to rest on the other's shoulder.

The hands that had wrapped around him were now wondering body rather possessively, grabbing, squeezing, pinching, caused Tom to bite his lip and the soft lips traveled up his neck and nipped at his ear. "You know what I hate?" A low husky tenor voice, breath moist and hot on his neck. Tom felt himself be turned around so that he faced the wall, his hands on the cold stone to brace himself as rough calloused hands gripped at his waist.

"Ron," Tom murmured as the body behind him gave a small chuckle and trusted its pelvic bone up against him, confirming that it was indeed him. His hands dipped in front, pulling Tom's shirt out of his pants and unbuttoning the lower three buttons.

"Do you Tom?" Tom shook his head, wantonly pushing back against him, he breathing becoming labored and heavy. Ron chuckled yet again, his voice right next to Tom's ear as he pushed his fingers down the waistband of Tom's pants, smiling against Tom's neck when he felt the hair that grew there. "I hate it when other people touch you," Ron stated, his other hand undoing the button on Tom's trousers, his right hand pushing deeper. Tom rested his forehead against the cold stone, closing his eyes and biting his lip to hold back the moan that threatened to escape him.

"I hate it when other people see you smile when I cannot," Ron stated as his one hand unzipped Tom's trousers and his other cupped him fully, feeling the bit of pre-cum that leaked from the head. Tom gave a loud gasp and whimpered as Ron shoved himself roughly against Tom. He fisted Tom, moving his hand up and down in an agonizingly slow motion.

"I hate that other people will never know," Ron gritted behind his teeth, biting down hard on Tom's neck as Tom jerked his hips forward into Ron's warm, slick hand. Still the hand moved slowly but seemed as if it was starting to speed up. Tom bit his lip, taking a deep breath as Ron's tongue lapped at the love mark he made.

"What?" he rasped his voice soft and still somewhat high. He tried to turn his head to look at Ron but Ron caught his chin and held it away so that he couldn't see him.

"I hate that they will never know you're mine," he whispered before he pushed Tom's trousers down to his knees and entered him, pushing through forcefully, causing Tom to cry out in pain. Ron gasped, closing his eyes as he rested his right palm flat against the cold stone of the wall above Tom's head. Ron still fisted Tom's member, his pace increasing as he stayed still inside of him.

Tom could feel his eyes prickling with tears as Ron stretched him inside out. He bit his lip harder, finally tasting blood as he cut into his lip. He felt Ron rest his forehead against his right shoulder blade and could tell by the tense body which stood behind him that Ron was trying desperately to control himself. Tom licked his lips clean and turned his head towards Ron. This time, Ron met Tom, kissing his lips softly, tasting the bloody and salt tears there.

His right hand came to Tom's stomach, rubbing the skin there gently as Tom began to push back against Ron. He vaguely realized he was loosing his virginity in an open space, albeit a nook but still quiet close to the great hall, where every single one of his classmates, teachers, and his headmaster sat, eating their cupcakes and drinking their pumpkin juice. He also realized that he was loosing his virginity to someone he had only known for less than one month, true only by two days but still.

As Tom pushed back against Ron, Ron took it as permission to begin moving again. One hand still rubbing Tom's stomach, the other hand pumping up and down as he brought Tom closer to climax. He pulled out slowly and then slammed back in but not too hard. Tom was biting his lip as not cry out, the last one had been unexpected and Tom had a hard time believing that nobody in the great hall and heard it.

Ron then gripped at Tom's hips, bending over so that he placed a trail of sloppy wet kisses up Tom's spine. "Say it," he growled in Tom's ear, as the tightness in his stomach grew. Tom was tensing in front of him, so close. "Say it," he said yet again, this time softer and accompanied with a kiss on Tom's neck.

"Yours," Tom whimpered as Ron took one final thrust before Tom was spurting his cum onto the wall in front of him. Ron could feel him spasming all around him and gritted his teeth as he came. Tom tired and losing all mobility in his legs, slumped in Ron's hold, his head resting against Ron's chest, Ron's chin resting on top of his head.

"Next time, we'll do this properly," he whispered with a chuckle, cleaning up the mess they had made and pulling up Tom's trousers. "I'm sorry I lost control." He turned Tom around so that he could see him properly and bent down, his lips touching Tom's in a soft caress. Tom smiled lazily and wrapped his arms around Ron's neck, hoisting himself up so that Ron held him in his arms. Ron laughed softly, wrapping his robes around them both and walking out of the nook.

He could hear Dumbledore giving a speech, stalling the students from entering the hallway outside the great hall and stumbling upon a sleeping Tom Riddle who looked like he had been thoroughly shagged. Ron gave a lazy smile, quickly disappearing into the dungeons where his quarters were located. He laid Tom down on his bed and settled himself next to him.

Tom curled up against Ron, seeking warmth to which Ron grabbed the covers and pulled them over both of them. He then collected Tom in his arms and gently kissed his head. It was weird, Tom looked so young, so innocent, it was hard to believe that one day, one horrible day when Ron wasn't there, that he would change and become a monster.

Determination told him he could save them. Doubt told him he would kill them all. His mind told him he was moving too fast, what about Harry. His body told him that he deserved this, deserved this love even if it came from a young boy who still had much to learn and still had yet to grow up. His heart told him he needed more time then just two months.


	10. Hit the Ground

**Title:** Hit the Ground  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 010: Years  
**Word Count:** 570  
**Rating:** PG13  
**Summary:** Tom visits the chambers and Ron wonders about his lover's disappearing acts at night.  
**Author's Notes: **Angst meter moved up to 30.

Tom slowly slipped out of the bed, careful not to wake the warm body that laid next to him. He gave a sleepy smile as he stared down at his older lover. He pressed his lips against Ron's forehead before he dressed himself quickly and let him out of Ron's quarters. His eyes darted down the halls, making sure no one was currently patrolling them.

After placing a silencing charm on his shoes, he made his way towards the girl's bathroom, sure that no one would be there so late at night. He smiled when he entered the empty bathroom undetected, and unseen. He made his way over to the familiar sink speaking to it in parseltongue before stepping back to let the sinks rearrange themselves. He grinned happily and jumped down the shoot, landing easily on his feet at the bottom.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked down the tunnels of the sewers, coming to the chambers and opening them. He walked in and called out to the basilisk and grinned happily when it slithered out, welcoming Tom as it slithered around him and seemed to hug him gently. Tom gasped and gave a choked laugh, patting the great snake's back as it loosened its hold on him.

"How have you been old friend?"

* * *

Ron's brows scrunched together at the picture that had formed behind his eyelids. Dark hair, pale skin, tumbled limbs, heavy breathing, panting. He turned in his sleep and went to curl up next to the body that had been beside him but when he felt no warmth, he frowned and pulled himself out of his dream.

He opened his eyes and sat up as he looked at the empty space next to him. The pillow was still indented with the imprint of Tom's head and when Ron ran his fingertips over it, it still felt warm. Which meant that Tom had vacated the bed to long ago.

He through the covers off and got out of bed. He began to pace the room, running his head through his hair, pulling it out of its hair tie. He tried to rationally think about where Tom could be. He could have retired to his room, realizing what trouble they would be in should someone see him exiting Ron's quarters. Or he could have snuck out to fuck someone else like that stupid Parkinson bitch who kept pushing herself up against him. The thought came unbidden to him and he knew rationally that Tom wasn't like that. Then again, he had thought that Harry wasn't like that either and had been proven very much wrong.

His jealousy was becoming too much. A few years ago, he wasn't this jealous. In face, a few years ago, he had been quiet easy going. If he remembered correctly, the only time he felt really jealous had been during his forth year when Harry had become a Triwizard champion and Krum had asked out Hermione to the Yule Ball.

He sighed and sat down on his bed, resolving to wait until Tom came back, if he did. There was a possibility that Tom had just felt the need to return to his own bed. Ron silently hoped that wasn't the fact. But he decided he rather have that be the reason than the repeat of another Harry Potter.

After all, he was getting to fucking old for this.


	11. Young and Aspiring

**Title:** Young and Aspiring  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 011: Red  
**Word Count:** 699  
**Rating:** PG13 just incase.  
**Summary:** Ron's nightmares of the war have returned  
**Author's Notes: **We learn about another character here, I suppose she's an OC, I don't know. She's not a mary-sue though. If she was, I'd kill myself.  
Oh yeah, angst meter has risen to 41 XD

The dreams had started again. Ones that made his skin crawl and his insides churn at the disfigured faces that greeted his closed eyes every night. The worst part was when the crimson red eyes flashed before him as pale soft pink skin turned a slimy grey. It was during this part that he would jolt awake with terror and look over for his lover but only find the bed empty.

The dreams, the nightmares had been carrying on for the past five days, endless, sleepless nights falling one after the other so that he was late for breakfast and the bacon was gone. He had more than once asked for a potion that would induce dreamless sleep but each request had been ignored and Ron would face the image of his lover turning into the monster he had come to fear and hate.

Waking up to find Tom gone and his side of the bed already chilling only made things worse. That and each day he was becoming encompassed with fierce jealousy. Jealousy that would make him do something horrible. He already knew what he was capable of and Tom was so fragile. Ron knew that he could break the young boy, knew that he could crush him without a moments thought. It frightened him even more than the dreams.

* * *

Tom noticed early on the change in Ron, noting the sore red eyes and tired smile that greeted him in the mornings and later on in the evening. He also noted the shortness that came across whenever somebody else was around or too close to him. Which seemed to be most of the time. 

Tom sighed and decided not to dwell on his lover until later when he was alone with the basilisk and had time to think. After all, potions was already a hard enough class as it was, not being able to concentrate on it would only make it worse.

* * *

Paula Parkinson had a reputation of being a woman who got what she wanted at any price. No one had ever rejected her and many were quick before they were to bad mouth her in front of anyone as she had fast reflexes and a quick tongue. One that would get her into much trouble later on in life if she didn't learn how to control it. 

She was a strong young woman, fast in learning and quick to read someone. She knew which buttons to push and knew which levers to pull to achieve her goal and her sixth sense hadn't failed her yet. She had many targets, conquests, and many ways of attaining them. Nothing stood in her way, until she decided to dig her claws into one orphan, Tom Marvolo Riddle.

He was young, innocent, fresh, and fragile. Something she could grasp and crush with the simple snap of her manicured fingers. At least, that was how he seemed. But she soon noticed something much darker and deeper behind his cold coal eyes. No life had truly shone behind them. Huger for something greater, yes, but life, true pure lustful life had not been seen in his eyes. Until the arrival of a certain teacher.

Oh yes, Paula had noticed the lustful stares, the death glares, the secret smiles and touches when both thought no one had noticed. She also knew that the transfiguration master had seen these incidents also. Paula only thought of this as a new challenge. She would break two birds with one small stone.

She sat at the slytherin table, rubbing her stocking foot up Tom's legs with a coy smile and a soft giggle. She noted the looks of envy at the boys that surrounded her and noted the bob of Tom's adams' apple as he glanced over at his lover, who sat with a heat glare as he watched. She leaned over, keeping her cold blue eyes on the professor as she whispered lustful things in Tom's ear. She bit at it, teasingly, smiling as Tom only sat still and Ron slammed his cup down on the table. Her smile grew as she noted that the professor's ears were just as red as his hair.


	12. The Little Things

**Title:** The Little Things  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 012: Orange  
**Word Count:** 965  
**Rating: **PG13  
**Summary:** Tom gets a rash.  
**Author's Notes:** Sorry for the absence. Spring break makes me a lazy bad little girl. Anyways, Angst meter back down at 0 for the fluff featured in this small ficlett. Give me a few more days and we'll get back to the angst that is sure to fallow. XD

* * *

The sheets we warm and soft against Tom's irritated skin. During Care of Magical Creatures, he had fallen into a patch of poison ivy like plants that made his skin break out into a horrible rash. He had raked his fingernails over the irritated skin, trying to scratch out the rash as he laid in bed, forced by two of his professors, one of which his lover. It came with perks, but Tom liked to be moving. And with a hound like Paula Parkinson on him all the time, moving was a good thing as it never left him in one place to long. 

He sighed and gave a growl of frustration when he stomach began to itch. He had already been scolded at by Poppy when she had popped around to check up on him. From the sound of footsteps that were coming towards his cot, it seemed as if he would be scolded yet again. The curtain around his cot drew back and he caught a glimpse of red hair. His face broke out into a grin and he allowed his hands to flop at his sides.

"Thank Merlin!" Tom stated as Ron pulled the curtain back and sat down next to him. "Please tell me that you're taking me back to your room!" Ron laughed and shook his head in the negative. Tom sighed, rolling his eyes and sneering. Ron smiled, leaning down and pressing a kiss against Tom's chapped lips. Tom jerked away, eyes wide open and he looked around him as if trying to see through the curtain that surrounded him. "You can't do that! What if we get caught?"

"Doesn't matter. Not like they can do anything to me right? I'm stuck here," Ron stated with a chuckle. He pulled out his wand and casted a silencing charm on the curtain. He placed his wand down on the side table and pulled out a jar of creamy/jelly liquid and waved it in front of Tom's face. "Poppy and Slughorn have developed some new potion for you. It should make this rash clear up in a few hours. At least, that's what they told me."

"Don't tell me I have to drink that. It looks horribly disgusting," Tom stated, sticking out his tongue. Ron shook his head and pulled at Tom's shirt. Tom gasped and tried to resist but soon the shirt was off and Ron could see the red blotches that covered his skin. He yanked the covers up, trying to cover his skin and hide away. Ron laughed and grasped Tom's chin, kissing him fiercely. Tom moaned and let go of the sheets, grasping the back of Ron's head as he tried to get closer.

"You don't have to drink it. I have to apply it," Ron stated as he pulled away, nipping at Tom's collarbone with a smile. Tom pulled away wide eyed.

"_You _have to apply it?" he asked with a small squeak, hating how surprised and small he sounded. Ron rolled his eyes and nodded as if saying who else would. "Dumbledore stated that you might be more comfortable with me then with Poppy. After all, I've seen your naughty bits, she hasn't," Ron stated, uncapping the jar and licking his lips happily. Tom looked away, crossing his arms across his chest and forcing himself not to say anything.

"Alright then, lie down. It might be cold," Ron stated, scooping a generous amount out and spreading it on the red blotches that covered his chest. Tom hissed, glaring at the jell that chilled his skin. "You know, this would be more erotic if I wasn't worried about some first year coming in. We'd probably traumatize the kid if we did anything and he caught a glimpse."

"Only you would think something as disgusting as this could be erotic," Tom stated with a glare. Ron grinned and moved up onto the cot, swinging his leg over Tom so that he straddled Tom's waist. He leaned forward, running his fingers through the jell on Tom's chest and pinching his nipples into hard peaks. Tom bit his lip and looked away.

"See, erotic," Ron stated with a satisfied grin as Tom whimpered and bucked his hips forward, seeking friction.

"What about that first year?" Tom gasped, trying to control his body's reaction to the hard body above him. Ron shrugged and leaned forward, nipping at Tom's ear lobe before trailing kisses down his neck. "You- you're pure evil," Tom panted, letting his head role back and rest against the pillow, his hips bucking upwards once again.

"I learned from the best."

Ron smiled happily as he laid in bed while waiting for Tom to emerge from the shower. He focused on the book in front of him, a muggle classic called _The Great Gatsby_ which Tom had stashed in his trunk. He noted the stomping and banging coming from the bathroom and looked up when Tom opened the door and walked out of the bathroom.

Tom's face was bright red as he glared daggers at Ron and looked as if he was on the verge of hysterics. Ron's eyes traveled down Tom's exposed chest and took in the new unearthly color of his skin. "I'm orange!" he yelled finally, his voice booming and somewhat high. "That fucking jell turned me orange!" Ron laughed giddily and stood up, walking over to Tom and pulled him into his arms.

"You still look delectable," Ron stated, bending down and capturing Tom's lips in a small fluffy kiss. Ron pulled away and smiled at how easily he could calm the young man in his arms. Tom looked down at his chest and groaned.

As if hoping the kiss had some how cured him, he frowned and said disappointedly, "I'm still orange."


	13. The Finish Line

**Title:** The Finish Line  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 013: Yellow  
**Word Count:** 507  
**Rating: **PG  
**Summary:** Ron suffers and sort of confronts Tom about where he goes at night.  
**Author's Notes:** Okay back to the main story. Flash forward a week later when Tom has been leaving the bed every night turning Ron into a crazed jealous boyfriend. Also note that the color yellow (while it usually means happy!) can also represent sickness/decay/jealousy. Angst meter back up to 45.

* * *

Ron gripped the sink with all his might as he stared at his tired, dirty reflection. The mirror had commented several times about how awful he looked and how what he needed was a good warm bath. Somehow, he didn't think that would really calm him. It was three in the morning and Tom had disappeared sometime ago. Ron rationally knew that Tom would never do what Harry had done. He just wasn't that type of person, and from what he had known about Tom before he had fallen back in time, it was a wonder as to how Tom ever even consented to being with him.

He sighed, looking at his reflection in the mirror. His skin had taken on a sickly yellow color, perhaps from food, or the more likely cause, from stress and paranoia. He sighed and turned the faucet on, splashing his face with cool water. He heard the door to his quarters open and left the bathroom to see Tom pushing off his shoes with the toes of the other feet.

Tom looked up, seeing Ron and frowning instantly. He walked over and cautiously reached out to touch Ron's flushed cheek. "You're sick." A statement, not a question. Ron shrugged his shoulders slowly as if not caring.

"Where do you go? You're not leaving me, are you?" Tom looked taken aback by the last question and quickly wrapped himself up in Ron's embrace, shaking his head and squeezing him tightly as if to tell him that he, Tom, would never let go. Ron embraced the hug quickly, holding Tom to him.

"Why would you think that? Of course I'm not leaving you. I just needed to go to my dormitory and fix my bed up to make it look as if it had been slept in so no one could ask questions as to where I go at night," he supplied, the lie quickly falling from his lips. Of course he did stop by the dormitory to do just that but most of the time, he had been down in the chamber, talking with the basilisk, trying to figure out a way to let the creature out without bringing any attention to himself. It was getting annoyed with him.

But Ron bought the lie, well semi-lie quickly and pulled Tom up for a kiss. Tom answered eagerly, as if to wash away all doubt of his feelings. "Sorry, I guess I get jealous a little too easily."

"I've noticed," Tom stated curtly but with a small playful smile. "But you're still sick, into bed with you." Ron gave a short chuckle but allowed Tom to lead him over to the bed and tuck him in.

"You know, they say sex cures any ailment," Ron stated, wriggling his eyebrows in an attempt to joke. Tom rolled his eyes and smiled, climbing in next to him and resting his head on Ron's shoulder. Ron closed his eyes and knew that for now it would be okay. He just didn't know for how much longer.


	14. Trust Me

**Title:** Trust Me  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 014: Green  
**Word Count:** 1,933  
**Rating: **PG  
**Summary:** Ron teaches Quidditch and talks to Tom about Tom's plans for the chamber.  
**Author's Notes:** Angst meter back up to like 35. Green is also known as the color of peace.

* * *

The day passed by slowly and Ron was looking back to his old self again, a smile on his lips and his eyes bright with joy. The first years noticed the change quickly and joined the happy fever along with their favorite professor. Today were quidditch try-outs and many of the first years were eager to join their team as it was now possible for them to try-out after Ron had talked about it to the headmaster. He figured since Harry had been able to play during his first year, others should get the same chance. The first years were ecstatic.

They sat on the lawn, looking up at Ron who went over the basic areas which they would be tested at should they try out. "I didn't try out for the quidditch team until I was in my fifth year, but my best friend became seeker in his first year. He did have natural talent, he was quick and even though the guy had glasses, he could see sharply," Ron stated, thinking of Harry's attributes. It was better to think of him as just his best friend instead of something more. Still, he felt a pang in his gut whenever he thought of him.

"Now, don't be discouraged if you don't make it. You are first years so you've got much to learn on the technique of flying. I've been playing quidditch since I was able to walk and I still have a lot to learn. Remember; think of this as just another learning opportunity. If you don't make it, don't worry, just practice even harder and try again next year. If you want to practice some more, I'll be here after class and even on the weekends. Come down and I'll run drills with you if you're that serious about it."

He clapped his eyes and smiled when he noticed Tom walk into the quad. "How about we play some games. Now, I want you to split up into groups. Those of you who want to be seekers over there, and beaters over by that tree. Chasers over to the right and Keepers come stand next to me. Bring your brooms. I'll give each group some drills and then after that if we have time, we'll break into teams and have a scrimmage." The first years grabbed their brooms and rushed off to the areas pointed out by Ron. A few still sat on the ground looking dejectedly at the ground, picking at the blades of grass.

"Tom, can you help me and make sure no body gets into any fights or anything while I talk to these guys?" Ron called over while pointing at the group of students who still sat on the ground. Tom nodded, placing his bag down next to the chest and bags of quidditch balls before walking around to supervise the groups of students, all eager to start their drills.

Ron knelt down and stared at the first years, as if trying to reach into their mind and see what they were thinking. "We don't know what we want to be," one boy supplied, his strawberry blonde hair looking almost red in the glow of the sunlight. He was pale with a runny nose and freckles covering his nose. The others nodded in agreement and Ron stood up.

"Well, I didn't always want to be a keeper. I was forced into it most of the time by my older brothers because they wanted practice. I wanted to be a seeker, everyone wanted to be the seeker except for my twin brothers. They loved being beaters. Anyways, I got pretty decent at being keeper and when I joined the team, I got even better. I love it now. I guess you just have to see which one interests you the most and see if it's right for you. Remember, you don't have to try-out and you've got time to decide which position you like the best. Try them all out," Ron stated, patting the boy on the head. He smiled and nodded his head, grabbing his broom and rushing over to where the Keepers group sat, waiting patiently for instruction. Ron laughed and looked at the other students.

"What house did you play for?" one girl asked. Ron smiled and shook his head, standing up.

"That's for another day. Now go join a group. If you have to, spin around in a circle and stop when you feel like it and then go to the group you're facing." The students laughed at that and one young boy who reminded Ron much of Neville did just that before staggering off to the chasers group. The groups had all sat down on the ground under Tom's instruction and had waited while the stragglers got to their groups. Ron smiled and clapped his hands.

"Keepers mount your brooms and go over to the rings. Take turns being keepers while the others shoot the quaffle in. I trust you to pick who's to go first. If I hear any fighting, it's back to the ground for all of you," he stated, opening the chest and grabbing one quaffle, passing it to the boy with the runny nose who caught it with a huge smile before kicking off the ground and fallowing the group to the three rings on the north side of the field.

"Chasers get up in the air and do passing drills and shooting drills. Go over by the south rings so that you don't run into the keepers." He passed another quaffle to another boy and watched as the group did just that before turning to the beaters. "Today beaters, you will be grounded." Some groaned but others waited eagerly for further instruction. "Partner up and grab one bat for your group. The others will be throwing balls the size of a bludger and you're going to work on just hitting it. There's the bag, there are the bats, get to it." The group rushed at the equipment and Tom had to come over and break up two boys, both of which who wanted to hold the bag of hard bludger sized balls.

He walked over to the group of seekers and counted them. There were four seekers so Ron walked over to the chest and pulled out for small balls, all of them a dull gold, but none with wings. They were a little bit larger than the actual snitch and did not fly at all. Ron pulled out his wand and enchanted them so that each ball floated slightly above his left hand. "Since there are four of you, there will be four snitch replicas up in the air. They will not leave this stadium and will not travel more than 200 feet above ground. You're object is to catch them as fast as you can. Each of you will have your own snitch." He then turned each ball a different color, one red, one green, one yellow, and one a dark blue. He then assigned each ball to a child, having them hover in front of their faces. "This is your color. This is the ball you will go after. I want no confusion. Remember, other people will be up there. Share you're air space." With the flick of his wand, the balls flew up into the air, zigzagging away and out of sight. "On the blow of my whistle, kick off and go get those snitches." He counted to five and then blew his whistle, watching as the four students kicked off and zoomed off into the air.

Tom moved over and stood next to Ron, staring up at the sky and at the students up in it. "You really are a great teacher," Tom stated, brushing his shoulder against Ron's arm who smiled and took his hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing each knuckle. Tom pulled away, shocked and looked around to see if anyone had seen them. "You shouldn't have done that."

"They're all to busy doing their drills. I'm sure none of them saw," Ron stated, grabbing Tom's hand again and just holding it. Tom tensed but relaxed soon after and moved closer, observing the class with Ron. "They're good kids. They have potential. I'd hate to see their dreams shattered," he stated. Tom looked up at him with confusion. Ron sighed and faced him, grasping his shoulders. "I know that you've had a hard childhood. I know that my childhood could never compare to yours because I had my parents and I had a place to call home."

"Ron, what are you getting at?" Tom asked, quirking an eyebrow upwards.

"Tom, if you went and looked in the Mirror of Erised right now, what do you think you would see?" Ron asked. Tom pulled away and rubbed his arms, shrugging. "I think if I went right now, I'd see you happy, healthy and not angry. That's my greatest desire. Of course, I think the happy part would include me, but that's not the point. I want you to be able to look in that mirror and see the same thing I do. I don't want you to look in that mirror and see yourself alone," Ron said, stressing the last word.

A few yells broke out to where the beaters were. Ron sighed looking at Tom. "I'll be right back," he whispered, kissing Tom's forehead quickly before rushing over to where the beaters sat, a boy on the ground clutching his groin. "What happened?" Ron yelled, bending down at looking at the boy.

"Donnie hit the ball and it hit him," one girl supplied a giggle on her lips. Donnie stepped forward.

"I didn't mean to hit him there, honest. It was an accident." Ron gave a supportive smile and nodded.

"I know. No guy would ever do that to another guy. It's too cruel. So Donnie, you have the honor of escorting Mr. Fredrick to the infirmary," Ron stated, helping the boy up and watching as Donnie wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulders. He watched them for a few moments as they walked off the field, a Slytherin helping the fallen Hufflepuff. "Alright, back to your drills beaters and be careful as to where you hit your balls. And those who are throwing, dodge. Also, rotate in five minuets so your partner can have a turn beating." Ron turned to walk back to where Tom had been standing but Tom had already disappeared, leaving Ron wondering if perhaps he had said the wrong thing.

* * *

Tom snuck into the classroom and stared at the mirror forlornly. Honestly, he had no idea what he would see. It had seemed that Ron had pulled him so far away for his goal, his purpose of being. Ron had turned his whole world upside down and Tom had fallowed, not resisting at all, giving into the current and flowing gently down stream.

He dropped his shoulder bag and walked cautiously up to mirror. He was somewhat afraid by what he might see. Did he want to see himself alone, powerful and immortal? Or did he want to see Ron? Did he want to see Ron next to him, kissing him, holding him, smiling that gorgeous smile that Tom had taken to instantly? And if he did see Ron, what did that mean? Surely, it couldn't mean something akin to love. After all, Tom had never loved. He didn't know what it felt like at all. But if that's the case, it could be love after all.

He stepped forward and looked at his reflection.


	15. Fall Away

**Title:** Fall Away  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 015: Blue  
**Word Count:** 608  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** While Ron has been smexing it up with Riddle, things have gone down hill for the boy who lived back in the future.  
**Author's Notes:** Angst meter bumped up to like 75. I'm sorry but Harry/Ron is my OTP. But don't worry; even though there is some H/R, it's really R/TR all the way.

He had grown accustomed to blue lips in the past few years. With the war, it was always around, on those who had fallen and sacrificed, their once warm bodies chilling in the night air, cold. He thought he had gotten used to it by now but that obviously wasn't the case. It seemed that he, the boy who lived/saved the world was not as hardened as everyone thought he was.

Harry sat, clutching Ronald Weasley's warm hand. It was strange that his body held so much warmth yet his lips were so cold. It had been a week since Ron had falling into the mirror only to be spat back out as a shell, his brown eyes gleaming and empty. Harry had been sitting by his bed at St. Mungo's ever since.

Sometimes, when it was just Ron and himself, Harry would notice a change in expression about his face, which was usually black and dead cold still. He would smile or scrunch his eyebrows up in cute frustration as if he was in a dream. Harry would squeeze Ron's hand a little harder; hope fluttering up his chest and then plummeting disgustingly back down when Ron's eyes never opened. They never did.

The Weasley's would visit daily and Draco had to only come once to know that he shouldn't be there, that neither Ron nor really even Harry wanted him there. They would bring food, fresh clothes, news papers, and some of Ron's belonging to cheer up the stale room and be there when he finally woke up. Something the doctors doubted greatly.

It was in the middle of the night when Harry awoke to something applying pressure to the top of his right hand which rested lightly over Ron's. He looked up to see Ron's face contorted, his other hand on top of Harry's, gripping it tightly. Harry jumped up, still holding Ron's one hand as his other hand brushed back Ron's long ginger hair. He leaned down and kissed Ron's forehead, hot and covered in beads of sweat. "Wake up," Harry whispered desperately, "Sweet Merlin, please wake up."

Ron's body tensed, his blue lips opening a crack as he let out a husky groan. It was the first sound he had made in a week and Harry clutched to it desperately. He grasped Ron's head in his hands as kissed Ron's cracked, dry lips, gently yet firmly as if he was trying to wake Sleeping Beauty.

Ron's lips opened wider and his heavy hands buried their fingers in Harry's thick hair. Their tongues dashed, their teeth clacked and Harry poured every emotion and every ounce of passion he had in him into it. He tried to press himself closer to Ron even though he was standing next to the bed. Harry held his eyes shut tight, his thumb brushing against Ron's bottom lip as they kissed.

Then Ron's lips went slack and his heavy hands fell back onto the bed. Harry pulled back, still holding Ron's head in his hands as he looked down at his best mate, his wrongly scorned ex-lover. Ron looked exactly as he had before he had come back to lip. Harry sobbed, letting Ron's head fall gently back on the pillow before he climbed up onto the bed and laid down next to him. He rested his head on Ron's chest, wrapping his arms around Ron's waist and clutching Ron with all his might, anguished wails escaping his lips as tears poured down and soaked through the hospital gown to Ron's skin.

The only sign that ever told Harry that the kiss was real were Ron's swollen blue lips.


	16. Your Promise

**Title:** Your Promise  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 016: Purple  
**Word Count:** 317  
**Rating: **G  
**Summary:** Tom Riddle is confronted with feelings his is not used to.  
**Author's Notes:** Sorry for the wait. Purple is a hard color to write for. Anyways, we're back with Tom and Ron (Well, mainly just Tom). Harry and the Weasleys' will appear later on in some of the other stories. Don't worry my lovelies; Harry won't get off the hook so easily! He shall suffer for what he did to our wonderful Ron. And Tom will happily lick Ron's wounds for him… and possibly lick other things to. X3

* * *

Tom almost forgot his messenger bag as he bolted from the classroom that held the Mirror of Erised. He was confused. What the hell did it mean? Surely, it couldn't. It wouldn't. There was no possible way! His feet seemed to clomp heavily in front of him and it was as if his hearing had been magnified ten times. Why was the world making so much noise around him? 

He needed one thing and one thing only. His purpose had only been one thing and one thing only. Which meant that something had to change. Tom Marvolo Riddle was of noble, pure, Slytherin blood! He had a mission, a purpose. He had a reason to be! And he was letting some red headed, pompous, egotistical, jealous, wonderfully beautiful, gorgeous smile wielding, brilliant man lead him away from it. Tom halted in the hallway, the darkness and crowd of paintings that hung on the cold stone walls surrounding him.

It couldn't be happening. It shouldn't be happening. It was impossible! It was impossible for this feeling to be flowing through him at all! It made his palm sweat, his stomach tighten and ache. It made blood rush through his ears. It made his eyes glazed and his vision blurry. It made him give up all notion of thought. But what was worse was it made him physically hurt. It made his physically ache for the warmth of another's body. It made him want arms wrapped around him. It made him want sweet, wet kisses. It made him want so many things and his heart pounded so loud that he couldn't hear what little thoughts that he managed to have.

It was impossible. How could it happen? Because he had sworn so long ago. He had sworn to his ancestor. He had sworn. Tom Riddle would never fall in love.

Yet somehow, Tom Riddle had indeed, fallen in love.


	17. Crashing Down

**Title:** Crashing Down  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 017: Brown  
**Word Count:** 621  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** Ron fights the giant squid and Tom gets caught in the crossfire.  
**Author's Notes:** Brown: nature, earth, fall, organic, conservative. Oh boy, this is hard. But some people also view it as mucky, depressing such as when a character should happen to fall into mud after running about in the pouring rain. And what color is mud? Brown. Hmmmm…. Oh the possibilities.

* * *

Tom first checked the great hall where the school gathered to eat. Ron however was not at the table. Tom dashed down to Ron's personal quarters but found he wasn't there either. Holding his bag to his hip to keep it from bouncing off of it as he ran, he dashed towards the lake, outside where it was pouring. 

There Ron stood, waist deep in the lake which was tossing and thrashing against the red head who held still and did not move. The great waves of the lake did not seem to jostle him. Ron held out his wand, bright bouts of spells shooting from its pointed tip at something in the great water. Then Tom saw it. The great giant squid was up on surface and Ron was trying to force him back into the deep. Only, it wasn't listening.

Tom rushed forwards and quickly stripped himself of his bag and robes before gripping his wand tightly and wadding into the water. "Ron!" The red head looked back and looked angered. He gestured violently for Tom to get out of the water as he was already in knee deep but Tom still moved forward. Ron shot off another spell, one that hit the squid in the eye and caused it to thrash about, afraid.

The water had a murky brownish tone to it, one that made Tom think it looked like dirty sewer water instead of the actual clear seaweed colored water it actually was. Obviously that thrashing of the squid had raised and mixed the sand and dirt of the ground into the water. Tom stood a few feet away from Ron and shot off a typical spell at the squid, binding two of its tentacles. "Get out of here Tom. I don't want you to get hurt."

"I can take care of myself!" Tom stated mater-of-fact like, binding two more tentacles. Ron rolled his eyes and sighed, noticing the blinding spell which he had hit the squid with earlier had worn off. The squid raised one tentacle and before Tom could notice, it came crashing down upon him, pushing him under the water and holding him there. Tom could hear Ron yelling and he tried to push the heavy limb off of him while still holding onto his wand. Before he could push the thing off of him, he lost consciousness and the world turned black.

* * *

Ron pressed against Tom's chest before returning to breath into Tom's mouth. "Come on you stubborn brat! Wake up!" He did the chest compressions again for the third time. Tom's stomach lurched underneath his hands and soon Tom was coughing up the water from the lake, squeezing his eyes shut and his lips forming a frown when he was done. Ron gathered the fifteen year old into his arms and sighed heavily, holding Tom to his body. "For once in your life, I wish you would listen to me," he sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of Tom's wet head. 

"Did you win?" Tom asked tiredly, burring his head in Ron's chest, gripping his arm as he waited for an answer. He was about to fall asleep.

"Yea, babe, I won," Ron stated with a chuckle before picking Tom up and walking towards the school. "Next time I'm dealing with the squid, you do as I say, okay? You have no idea how much you scared me." Tom mumbled and nodded, yawning before he smiled. He was supposed to tell him something. It was pressing, very important or else he wouldn't have missed dinner for it. He decided, as he felt the warmth of new soft clothes and cool sheets of a bed, that it could wait until morning.


	18. Pardon Me

**Title:** Pardon Me  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 018: Black  
**Word Count:** 1,228  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** Back in the future, the world is mourning the loss of a dear friend even though he isn't gone. Back in time, Tom learns to let go.  
**Author's Notes:** Why has it taken so long to update? Well, first I had to get through finals which I passed with pretty much flying colors (except for that damned math- I'm a writer dammit not a math matician!). The next week after school ended, I started my summer job which is from 8:30 to 5 which means Alex comes home very exhausted except for on Fridays (then I go watch horror movies with friends which afterwards we take trips to abandoned houses and scare the crap out of ourselves when we think one- the cops are going to come and bust us for breaking and entering and two – there's a huge freaking cross in the backyard of the house which we didn't see when we first went in). Anyways, because this note is just so damned long, you'll get a longer _short_ story too! Everyone say huzzah!

* * *

Harry was steaming. It seemed that everyone was mourning for the loss of Ron even though he was still breathing, still living, still giving off small signs of life when his eyebrows scrunched together or his lips lifted in a gorgeous satisfied smirk as if Ron was merely dreaming. His skin twitches, his fist clutched, his long toes wiggled. Harry witnessed it as he sat next to Ron, grooming his old lover, feeding him, bending his arms and legs so his joints wouldn't stiffen. Yet the world was set on seeing him as dead.

"Harry it's been two weeks!" Draco had said the day before as he had tried to lure Harry away. "Please, you're going to die in here if you stay. You'll go mad!" Harry had shaken his head and stared at Ron's temple. It was twitching, he was having a nightmare. "You still love him!"

"Of course I still love him!" Harry had snapped angrily, standing up from the chair so forcefully and the chair and fallen backwards and slammed into the floor. Draco jumped, Ron's temple twitched. "He was my first best friend Draco! I'll always love him." Draco shook his head and his eyes began to water.

"That's not what I meant to pratt," he stated, hurt more than angry. "I hope you're happy. You're dead. He's dead. You two are the perfect couple!" With that, Draco had swept up his outer robe and left the room with no intention of going back. Hermione had stopped by later, begging her friend that he leave the room also.

"You're starting to worry us, Harry. We can't lose you too!" She was crying and Harry was angry

"Why is everyone acting like he's dead! He's not! He's alive!" He looked back at Ron, his expression softening as he sat back down in his chair and gave Ron's hand a soft squeeze. "He's alive." Hermione shook her head and knelt down next to him, her hand grasping his arm.

"Please Harry. Let him go! If not that at least get some space, some perspective. You're going to kill yourself if you keep doing this. He wouldn't want this, Harry. Ron would want you to at least go back out into the world and live a life." Harry shook his head and swallowed the saliva in his mouth.

"No. I have to be here. I have to be here when he wakes up so I can tell him." Hermione sighed.

"Tell him what Harry?"

"That I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. That I know it's my fault and that I wish I was stronger, as strong as him. I want to tell him I love him and only him, forever." She shook her head and stood up, giving him one last fleeting look as she walked out of the room to report what had happened to the Weasely's.

Harry sighed and looked at Ron, his red hair splayed out across the pillow like an orange halo. Harry removed his shoes and climbed up onto the bed next to Ron, resting his head on Ron's chest, feeling it move up and down beneath him, hearing the steady thumping of his heart.

* * *

Tom grunted, bored and restless as he laid in the bed in the infirmary wing. Despite his protests that he was perfectly fine, Ron had carried him down to Madame Promfrey for a look over. The young nurse clicked her tongue and shook her head while a faint smile held on her lips as she stole secret glances at the flying professor. It did not go unnoticed by Tom however though Ron was oblivious. "I want him to stay over night, just to make sure he's okay." She stated with a smile as she looked up at Ron, who nodded, his expression serious. Tom shook his head and began to sit up in protest when Ron grasped his shoulder firmly.

"You will do as Madame Promfrey tells you," he stated, his voice stern yet soft at the same time. Tom shook his head.

"But I'm fine. Honest." Truth was Tom hated being in the infirmary. Hated being around the sick, the weak. It was almost as if he was afraid he might catch it, the being weak part. He looked up at Ron, pleading with his eyes. Ron sighed, looking at Promfrey.

"Could I have a word with him alone Poppy?" he asked, giving her a soft smile. She smiled, nodding, her face turning a deep red from blushing. Tom glared at her back as she left, his dark eyes smoldering. "Now what was that look for?" Ron asked after Promfrey was out of ear shot having caught his glare. Tom shook his head and as he pulled his knees to his chest and rested his chin there. Ron sighed, sitting down on the bed next to him. "Come on, love. What's on your mind?"

"I just don't like the infirmary is all." Ron chuckled, catching on with a smile. He pulled Tom to him and onto his lap.

"The great Voldemort is afraid of the infirmary?" he asked with a grin. Tom pulled away and shook his head, glaring at his older lover. Ron sighed, his grin disappearing and replaced with a frown. "There's something else. Something you're not telling me." Tom thought back to the mirror and what he had seen. He thought back to his plans, the chamber, and the damned nurse trying to steal his lover from under his nose. "What's the matter? Tell me, please." Tom shook his head and buried his face into Ron's chest, inhaling his scent.

Would it be so bad to want this? Was it so wrong? Was he falling away? He closed his eyes, feeling them sting and water. He gripped Ron's robes, feeling the soft fabric beneath his palms, solid and real. His throat felt closed off. His stomach felt like it was doing flip flops. Why was the world so hard? Why were these feelings consuming him? Why were they swallowing him whole, leaving him barley enough room to breath? He choked back a sob, trying to keep himself together. How did something so small, so trivial, so weak send him falling to pieces?

Ron barely registered the change in Tom before he was wrapping his arms around the small body and hugging it to his own. He could feel Tom's hot tears seeping through the fabric of his shirt and he sighed. He smiled, gathering Tom's head in his hand and titling it upwards so that he could look into Tom's eyes. "Let it slip away, Tom. Let it fall away." Tom shook his head, closing his eyes. "Let it go, Tom, please. For us, let it go."

They didn't notice the young nurse returning, probably to check up on Tom or to use it as an excuse to see the young red headed man who had captured her heart. She carried a bowl of water in her small, pale hands, a wet cloth in the herb mixture. The smile that her lips had held fell away along with the bowl when she walked in on the two lovers. It fell away and clattered against the floor, a loud sound echoing through the room. Neither noticed, to caught up in the taste of the other, to caught up in slipping away with the current.


	19. Morning Glow

**Title:** Morning Glow  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 019: White  
**Word Count:** 408  
**Rating:** G  
**Summary:** Tom decides not to dwell on thinking about what he had planned and just be.  
**Author's Notes: **Sorry for not updating in like fifty billion years. I've had a bit of writers block. More like a huge chunk. Bleh. Anyways, more Tom/Ron love. Oh and you know, I'm just pimping this randomly – Pippin is awesome. Should it ever come to a theatre/high school near you, go see it. Get the cd. The music is awesome. And Morning Glow is actually a song in Pippin. It also inspired this one shot. So listen to it!

_  
_

_Morning glow, by your light  
We can make the new day bright.  
And the phantoms of the night  
Will fade into the past._  
**Morning Glow, Pippin**

Tom sat on the windowsill of an empty classroom in the second highest tower. Across the room sat the Mirror of Erised, the moon reflecting in the glass. Tom pulled his knees to his chest and rested his cheek on one knee as he stared at the mirror. He was too far away to see his own reflection but he already knew what it would look like. What it would hold. The answers and the false hops that it would press upon him.

He didn't know why he kept coming back. Didn't understand what compelled him to stand in front of the faux glass every night. The feeling he felt for the mirror was the same as it was when he first realized what it did.

Still, the image had changed. It had grown, matured, and made his stomach plummet downwards to the ground. First he had seen him with his parents. Then alone and powerful. And now. Now.

He swung his legs down of the sill, his toes barley touching the floor. He felt as if he were still only eleven years old. He slid down to the ground, feeling the cold stone beneath his feet. It was comforting, telling him that the floor below him would not crumble and fall away. He pushed back the hair that fell into his eyes as he stepped forward.

His reflection. He stood there, the same old Tom Marvolo Riddle with his mussed black hair and his cold coal eyes. He looked the same. Except, there at the corner of his mouth, on the left side, the lips quirked upwards. The eyes in the reflection moved to look out of the corner of his eyes.

Red hair and brown eyes bore into his. Tom stared at him, noting just how tall he was compared to Tom. A hand settled on the reflection's shoulder.

And Tom's. Startled, he turned around. Ron gave a deep chuckle and pulled Tom to him. Tom looked back at his reflection. It mirrored him perfectly. The expression, the exact positioning of his body. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing, Tom?"

Tom tilted his head, resting it against Ron's chest. The reflection fallowed suit at the same time. Tom smiled as he closed his eyes. Deciding for once just to let things flow. To stop thinking and just be. They stood, staring at their reflection in the mirror, the morning glow flooding into the room behind them.


	20. Put Up or Shut Up

**Title:** Put Up or Shut Up  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 020: Colorless  
**Word Count:** 570  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** Madame Pomfrey makes things difficult for Ron and Tom.  
**Author's Notes: **I have no excuse this time for taking so long expect for the fact that I am a loser. Enjoy the fic.

* * *

Ron grinned happily as he walked down the hall, towards the great hall. He was starving and wanted to talk to Dumbledore about what Tom had seen in the mirror. He wanted to shout it to the world! He knew, in the back of his mind that their relationship, if found out by anyone outside of Hogwarts, could be catastrophic. The reason it didn't make such a huge deal now was simply because Tom was an orphan and had no one to call his parents. Ron was sure that if Tom had parents, their relationship could never be.

He turned down another hall, nearing the Great Hall when Madame Pomfrey crashed into him, having just come out of the Great Hall herself. He stepped back as he grabbed at her shoulders, steadying her so that she wouldn't fall. "You okay?" he asked, genuinely sincere in his question.

She glared up at him, yanking herself out of his grip. "I told the headmaster," she seethed, taking a step back. "I told him what a sick, perverted man you are!" Ron took another step back, startled and confused. "You're not fit to be a teacher. Who knows what other young students you're preying on!"

"Tom," he whispered as it was the only thing that came to his mind. He didn't understand how she had found out but it was obvious she had. He wondered briefly if perhaps they hadn't been careful enough. That was the obvious fact. He ran a shaky hand through his hair as he looked down at her. "You told Dippet?" he asked, trying to get the facts straight.

"Yes! I told all about how you forced yourself on that poor Riddle boy," she snarled, again Ron taking another step back.

"I didn't force myself on him – I would never," he whispered. "Why would you think I would ever?" It hurt him to see that Madame Pomfrey seemed to hate him so, especially since he had always liked her, even when he was younger, in the future.

"Because I saw you kissing him!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up as if to help get her point across. "I saw you kissing him and it should have been me!"

"What?" She clasped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with surprise and Ron knew that she didn't mean to let that part slip. She sighed, tears slipping down her cheeks as she looked away, ashamed of herself.

"You heard me," she groused, hurriedly wiping her eyes. "The fact is that you will be thrown out of here so I won't ever have to see you again. The headmaster will make sure of that," she stated, moving to walk around him and away.

"What will I do then? Where will I go? I'm not from this time period, Poppy!" he yelled after her. She stopped in the middle of the hall and turned around, staring at him in shock. It was then that he realized she didn't know, she hadn't known. "I'm from the future Poppy. About fifty years from now. I haven't been born yet. My mum hasn't even been born yet. If I'm forced to leave, where will I go?"

There was silence, where neither said anything. Finally, she turned around and began walking away before stopping right before the corner. "That's none of my concern," she said sullenly, before turning down another corridor and out of sight.


	21. Old Rules

**Title: **Old Rules  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 021: Friends  
**Word Count:** 545  
**Rating:** K  
**Summary: **Ron talks to Dumbledore about the new obstacle in his relationship with Tom.  
**Author's Notes: **A short drabble. Sorry. They will get longer. It's just sometimes they've got to be short to keep the story moving. Plus, I've still got 79 more prompts to go.

* * *

Ron paced his quarters, agitated as he bit at his nails while he waited the arrival of Headmaster Dippet. Dumbledore was the only other man in the room presently. "What am I going to do?" Ron moaned. "I can't deal with this. Tom can't deal with this! Not right now. Not when I've finally pulled him away from the edge."

Dumbledore gave a soft understanding smile as his long fingers twirled the grey hairs of his every growing beard. "You need to calm down, Ronald. If Headmaster Dippet sees you so distressed – well, it will not help your case." Ron sighed, sitting down in an overstuffed chair that faced the fireplace, crackling with life. He recollected staring into fires with Harry, Sirius's or his own father's head staring up at him.

He ran his hand through his hair, disturbing the pony tail as long strands fell into his face. He pushed them back behind his face as he looked over at Dumbledore. "Will he call Tom in here? Will he question him?" Dumbledore remained quiet but Ron could tell by the look in his eyes that Tom probably would be called in, would be made to tell everything or face possibly even expulsion which was the last thing that Ron ever wanted for Tom. "He shouldn't have to go through this."

"He'll be prepared. Tom's a capable young man; he knows what's at stake." Ron shook his head, leaning back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"He doesn't know. I couldn't tell him. He'll be caught completely unaware," Ron whispered, ashamed that he had kept what had happened a secret from Tom. He just didn't want Tom to be worried, to perhaps think that what they had was a mistake and then break it off with him completely. Ron knew he wouldn't be able to take another rejection. Not so soon. Not when they had finally reached that point where Tom trusted Ron fully. Where Tom finally saw what Ron saw in the Mirror of Erised.

That damned mirror. Ron realized that if he had never fallen into that mirror, this whole catastrophe wouldn't have happened. He wouldn't have met Tom. Wouldn't have put himself, his family, his friends, and his future in jeopardy. Merlin knows how screwed up the future was now. There was no doubt in Ron's mind that he had changed it a bit if not completely.

He sighed. "I should have never come here," he whispered, leaning forward, burring his head in his hands.

Dumbledore gave a small chuckle as he stood and patted Ron on the back. "There's a reason you're here Ronald. You're supposed to do something here. What, I'm not sure but you're supposed to be here. Never think anything different."

Ron sighed, nodding as he gave Dumbledore a small smile. "Thank you, Albus. I couldn't ask for a better Professor." This time, Dumbledore gave a full laugh, one that slightly shook him. He shook his head, sitting down next to Ron as he did so.

"I may have been your professor, or will be. But right now I'm your friend, Ronald. Remember that." Ron gave a smile at the exact moment that a knock sounded on the door.


	22. Save Tonight

**Title: **Save Tonight  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 022: Enemies  
**Word Count:** 1,405  
**Rating:** K/G  
**Summary: **Headmaster Dippet questions Ron about his relationship with Tom after Poppy told him she saw Ron and Tim kissing.  
**Author's Notes: **Well it's been a while – obviously. Sorry for not updating. Life got in the way really, but I do want to finish this. You all just have to be patient. And hey, if can wait over a year for Echidna to update her Spuffy fic _Too Close for Comfort_, you guys can wait nine months – right? Wah, I love you all, thank you for reading!!!

* * *

Ron bolted upright in his seat, his hair a disarray of red strands that fell in front and around his face, out of the hair elastic which held the majority back in a pony tail. He looked over at Dumbledore, his blue eyes wide with apprehension as a knock sounded on the door yet again. "Come in," Ron called, his voice hoarse with worry, his eyes never leaving Dumbledore who sat in his chair, his own blue eyes boring into Ron's, telling him not to worry, to keep calm, and to have hope.

Ron nodded, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before looking over at the door which now opened and revealed the headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor Dippet. He was a small, frail looking wizard, his head balding, a few stray wisps of white hair falling here and there. He smiled, his wrinkles deepening as he made his way into the room, greeting both Ron and Dumbledore.

"Yes, yes. Dumbledore's here, how wonderful! And you're here, Ronald, yes. Now we just need the Riddle boy, and Poppy, and everything can get underway," he stated smiling softly as he sat down in the chair which Dumbledore had recently vacated and offered.

"Is it necessary for young Tom Riddle to be here, Headmaster? After all, the accusation on Mr. Weasley will greatly affect the boy, whether they are true or false. Surely it would be unnecessary to cause to young boy trouble if it is false," Dumbledore voiced calmly but Dippet shook his head, still grinning.

"Afraid not Albus. I need Riddle here to either agree to the accusation or disprove it. Ronald is going to deny it and Poppy will fight fiercely to prove herself right. I need the boy here to settle it. I am sure that this is just a mix up, the wrath of a woman scorned," he chuckled, looking over at Ron who blushed a deep scarlet, the tips of his ears turning color to match his hair. "And she's a fiery one, isn't she Ronald. Of course, I think you did the right thing, turning her down. Can't get to deep, can ya' lad? Got to get back to the future eventually." He chuckled again, this time, slightly wheezing as he did so. He coughed a few times, his wizened hand clenched in a fist in front of his mouth. He looked up at Ron and smiled gently. "I don't think you did it, lad. You know the stakes. At least, if you went to Hogwarts, you should."

Ron swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded as another knock sounded on the door. This time, Headmaster Dippet joyfully called for whoever knocked to join them and soon the door opened to reveal both Tom and Poppy who gripped Tom's shoulder firmly.

Ron noticed right away the empty look in Tom's eyes and immediately began to panic internally, wondering what she had said to him and how far he had gone back into himself. A cough from Dumbledore told him to stay put, as he came to realize he had begun to cross the room, probably to pull Tom to him and yell profanities at Pomfrey, which wouldn't help the case against him. So he stood still, his hands clenched into fists at his side and gave Pomfrey a slightly glare, one that said if she harmed one single hair on his head, she would be paying for eternity.

"Well, then, since everyone is here, onto business. Madame Pomfrey, please relay what you said to me yesterday to everyone here," the Headmaster sighed, his voice becoming weak, as he motioned for Dumbledore to conjure him a glass of water. Dumbledore did so and Madame Pomfrey stepped forward, her head held high, her hand abandoning its perch on Tom's shoulder.

"Yes Headmaster. On the light of last Friday, Mr. Weasley brought Mr. Riddle to my care. He said that Mr. Riddle had suffered some minor injuries from the Giant Squid and was worried. I looked over Mr. Riddle and found a few minor scrapes and scratches but nothing serious. However, I was worried about a concussion so I wanted him to stay over night to watch him. Mr. Riddle didn't seem thrilled about the idea and Mr. Weasley asked to speak with him alone. If I had known- I wouldn't have left them but I did and when I cam back, I saw Mr. Weasley forcing himself on Mr. Riddle," she stated to which Ron gave an angry outcry.

"Force?!" He cried angrily. "I would never force myself on anyone!" A hand on his shoulder held him still, and he knew that Dumbledore was only a mediator, trying to keep things calm. Madame Pomfrey stayed silent and silently moved back to her standing place, her hand coming up to grip Tom's shoulder. "Stop touching him! Get your bloody hands off of him!"

"Ronald!" Dumbledore's voice was soft but warning and Ron turned to look at his old Headmaster. Ron shook his head, tensing, as he pointed a shaky hand at the medi-witch.

"She's doing something to him! She could be forcing him to answer the way she wants him to! Look at his eyes! They're empty!" Ron cried, looking back at Tom who stood silently throughout the whole thing, his hands at his sides, his eyes staring out in front of him.

"Yes, yes, Madame Pomfrey, do let go of the boy. If what you say is correct and that Mr. Weasley forced himself on Mr. Riddle, I'm sure Mr. Riddle will tell the truth in hopes of ridding himself of Mr. Weasley," Dippet coughed, taking a sip of his water before he looked over at Ron. "Do calm yourself Ronald, wouldn't want to look guilty would we?"

"Guilty of what?" cried Ron angrily. "Guilty of caring for his safety? Guilty for being human, for loving?" Ron looked over at Tom and noticed the small flash in his eyes immediately and before he could continue, he grinned. Tom wasn't gone, he'd been there all along, he'd just put up his mask in front of these people, people who he didn't trust.

Dippet looked at Ron curiously, but shook his head and looked at Tom, beckoning him forward with his index finger. Tom stepped forward and bowed so that his head was at the same height as Dippet's. "Did Mr. Weasley force himself on you?"

"No."

"Has he ever tried to force himself on you?"

"No, Headmaster. He hasn't." Dippet sat back with a sigh, clapping his hands as Tom straightened and stepped backwards. "Well then that's settled. Albus, do be a gentleman and help an old man up," he asked, his arm outstretched as Albus took his arm and helped him upwards and out of the chair, chuckling.

"An old man you could never be, Armando," Dumbledore chuckled joyfully to witch the Headmaster gave a wheezing laugh and began his slow pace out of Ron's quarters to his own.

"But Headmaster! I saw him! Surely some justice should be served!" Pomfrey exclaimed, her cheeks turning scarlet as she clutched at her apron. Dippet shook his head and waved his hand at her.

"Tom answered truthfully. I know. Mr. Weasley never _forced_ himself on Mr. Riddle," he stated sourly, obviously tired with the topic at hand. "Now, perhaps it's time for you to get back to work at the infirmary. Our students aren't going to heal themselves now, are they?" he asked with an amused chuckle, watching as Madame Pomfrey turned on her heel and stalked out the door angrily. "Well then, now that that's done with, how about some lemon drops Albus, I know how much you favor those!"

Dumbledore chuckled happily nodding as he guided the wizened wizard out of the quarters saying, "That would be wonderful, I even have a few chocolate frogs if you'd like some Armando." And with that they were gone, leaving Ron and Tom alone, staring at each other for what seemed to be hours.

Finally, Ron broke from his spot and pulled Tom into his arms, holding him, kissing him, on his forehead, his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks, his lips, everything his lips could reach. And Tom reveled in it, loving every second, his smile growing with each kiss as he held on just as tightly.

The Headmaster knew and had granted them his blessing. Nothing could stop them. Not even time.


	23. Faster

**Title: **Faster  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Tom Riddle Jr., Ronald Weasley  
**Prompt:** 023: Lovers  
**Word Count:** 1,648  
**Rating:** M/R  
**Summary: **Ron fulfills his late promise.  
**Author's Notes:**Woosh, another update and a week after the last. Let's hope I keep up with this, yeah? Anyways, if you have taken the time to read everything up here, you probably know what's in store for you below. That's right, smut! Because what do lovers do? They have sex. Lots and lots of hot steamy gay monkey butt sex… at least Tom and Ron do. Yay for PR0N!

* * *

Ron grinned into Tom's kisses, pressing his lips firmly against those in front of him, already red and swollen. He knew his must look the same. He gripped Tom's thigh, pulling it upwards, wanting to pick him up and have those beautiful long legs wrap around his waist and hug. 

But Ron was patient, letting Tom take the lead. This time he'd be gentle, or rough, whatever Tom wanted. This time, he'd take his time, and whisper sweet nothings in Tom's ear and devour his body slowly, showering it with the love that Tom deserved. This time, they would be in a bed and it would be out of happiness and love and not in a nook outside the great hall out of jealousy and anger. This time, they'd do it again and again until they passed out from exhaustion and the mere fact that they probably wouldn't be able to come anymore.

This thought aroused Ron more than anything else. Tom pressed his lips to Ron and slipped his tongue into Ron's mouth so that it tangled and danced and pressed to the wet throbbing muscle that resided there. He pressed his body, flush, up against Ron, standing on his tip toes, his arms wrapped around Ron's neck as Ron's hands pulled at his thighs, his waist, his ass. Tom smiled into the kiss as he felt their erections press against each other, both hard and straining against the fabric of their trousers.

Tom let his lips and teeth slide, nipping at Ron's jaw, neck, and collar bone, leaving a small trail of love marks along the way, as he rocked his hips slightly, still straining to hold himself up on his tip toes as Ron's gripping turned from harsh to light feather touches that made Tom feel as if he could fall away at any moment.

Tom gripped Ron's shoulders and pressed his hips fully to Ron's, rotating them, jerking, begging for friction as he let his head fall back, his black hair falling back, his eyes closed, his eyebrows pulled together, and his red lips open in a whimper. How could Ron not look? How could he not moan with want as another gust of lust and want and love traveled through him from his head to his fingertips to his groin to his toes? It was all too much and Ron found himself sweeping Tom up in his arms, forcing the long legs to wrap around his torso and the hips to grind, and the lips to meet his in a kiss that battled for dominance.

Tom broke away after a few moments, gasping, his grip on Ron's torso tightening as he whimpered and moaned. "Bed," he gasped, his voice hoarse as his eyes closed while Ron lavished his neck with nips and bites and kisses. He felt Ron nod and begin to move and soon found himself on the bed, Ron kneeling over him, looking down at him, his blue eyes glazed over with want, he red hair falling down to frame his face, loose from it's usual elastic. Tom decided then that he loved Ron's hair, loved its color, its length, its texture, and its smell. If he thought about it, he loved everything about Ron. And that was okay.

He smiled and reached up, taking Ron's head in his hands and pulling him down so that they could kiss properly. Ron chuckled and complied, his lips moving over Tom's, matching, and completing, and perfect. "How 'bout we get these pesky clothes off, hmm?" he asked after pulling back with a silly grin on his face. Tom nodded his head eagerly and reached to pull of Ron's shirt, yanking it somewhat fiercely over the red head's head. Ron laughed and returned the favor, though a bit more gently, before he reached down to undo Tom's trousers.

Then Tom was bare and naked and perfect in front of him, his skin pale flawless except for the few love marks that littered his neck and collar bone. Ron sat back on his heels and stared at his young lover, who was hard, the head already seeping with precome, his hands grasping at the bed sheets, clenching them in his fist as he closed his eyes and looked away. The intensity of Ron's gaze was too much and Tom felt his neck and face heat up, the pale skin becoming almost as red as the hard member that stood erect from his body.

"Gorgeous," Ron whispered leaning forward and almost bending over his, one hand pressed into the mattress, the other ghosting over Tom's shivering, heated body, as if unsure what to touch, what to caress, what to feel. He sighed, closed his eyes and inhaled Tom's musky scent and ran his finger tips lightly over the skin of his collarbone, tracing the bones there before skimming over his chest, his nipples, his ribs. Tom tensed, gasped, released, and moaned before opening his eyes and looking up at Ron.

"More," he said taking Ron's head in his hands as he pulled himself up and pressed his lips to Ron's, kissing, nipping, and pulling. Ron's hands gripped at Tom's forearms and soon he was back sitting on his heels with Tom kissing him, his arms pressed at his sides, his hands folding in Ron's hair. Ron shifted again, his legs stretching out and Tom now straddling him, his arms wrapped around his neck, as he gasped as began to rut against Ron.

Tom bit his lip and pressed himself against Ron's chest, feeling their nipples catch slightly as Ron wrapped his large arms around Tom's torso, his lips pressed against the crook of Tom's neck as he inhaled his scent yet again, never getting enough. "I need more," Tom gasped, his hips jerking forward, seeking friction. He felt Ron nodded against his neck and soon felt the pressure of a finger pressing at his opening.

The finger pressed firmly, feeling the small amount of fluid that had begun to form there before he pushed one in, stretching him slowly and somewhat painfully. Tom bit his lips and looked down between their bodies as Ron's other hand worked at the belt of his own trousers, undoing them and his trousers soon after. With one arm still wrapped tightly around Ron's shoulders, Tom reached down in between them and grasped Ron's hard shaft, pulling it free from its trappings, his thumb brushing over the head, spreading the precome which gathered there.

Ron groaned as he slipped a second finger in, working the tight channel, pulling the fingers out and thrusting them back in pushing at the inner walls, trying to find that perfect spot that would make Tom sing. Tom grunted, his hand tightening, his palm shifting upwards and downwards in fast, sporadic motions. They pressed their foreheads together, breathing deeply, Tom letting out small whimpers as Ron added a third finger and finally found that spot as Tom jumped and let out a loud wail of pleasure.

"More-ah ah, m-more," he moaned as his tongue darted out to wet his parched lips, Ron watching in fascination. Tom's eyes were dark, his hair disheveled, his cheeks flushed along with his neck and chest. Ron nodded, grunting slightly as he removed his fingers and began to pull Tom upwards. Tom nodded and kneeled on his knees as Ron gripped his cock. Slowly, Tom guided Ron to his opening and lowered himself on him.

Both gasped, Tom's left hand clutching Ron's shoulder, his right still guiding the thick shaft inwards as he bit his lip and his eyes stung with tears. Ron grunted and kept still as his hands firmly gripped Tom's hips, helping, comforting, and controlling. Finally Ron was in to the hilt and Tom stilled over him, gasping for breath as he got used to the feel of Ron inside of him.

After a few moments, he looked at Ron and smiled, wrapping his arms around Ron's shoulders as his knees and the balls of his feet pressed into the mattress. Ron smiled back, wrapped his arms around Tom's torso and tucked his head under Tom's chin and the two began to move, slowly, together, as one.

Soon the pace picked up, Tom leaning backwards, one hand clutch at Ron, the other pressed into the mattress behind him as Ron leaned forward, his lips encircling Tom's taut nipples, sucking harshly as he jerked his hips upwards. Tom gasped, moaned, and screamed, his head falling back in ecstasy, his mouth open, letting his voice free as he gasped and begged for breath. Ron grunted and bit at the nipple between his teeth as he thrusted upwards, hitting Tom's sweet spot and sending his lover into his first orgasm, spurting his come onto their chests and laps as he wailed, his head back, his eyes wide, and his body tense.

Ron groaned at the walls spasming around him and fallowed Tom soon after, both riding out their orgasms, Tom now relaxed, hugging Ron weakly around his shoulders, still moving, softly, happy, content, spreading the come that rested there on their chests.

Finally done, Tom and Ron smiled lazily at each other, both sated, and full. "That was brilliant," Tom mumbled as he rested his forehead against Ron's shoulder, inhaling the scent of sweat, musk, and sex. "The best. We should do that more often." Ron chuckled, his body shaking slightly as he pulled Tom's head up so that he could see him.

"I agree," he mumbled happily, pressing his lips lazily to Tom's who replied with lethargic enthusiasm. "We'll get started right after this. I plan to bugger you well into the early morning." Tom chuckled, shook his head and pressed his forehead's to Ron.

"I don't think I could go for that long," he mumbled, a smile still playing on his red, swollen lips.

"Oh, I think you can."


End file.
